a very uncourtier-like
manner by discovering traces but too evident of poisoning. In such case
the alliance, perhaps, might have been broken off, and the projects of
both King and clergy for the Dutch and English crusade have come to
nothing. Such blundering fellows would never have been forgiven. So the
physicians were prudent and politic. It was altogether a grievous
spectacle. Here was a woman universally beloved, yet who inspired no one
with any strong feeling. Everybody was interested--went and came; but no
one would assume any responsibility, no one obeyed her last and constant
prayer. She wanted to eject the poison by the aid of an emetic. No one
dared to give it her. "Look," she exclaimed, "my nose is gone--shrunk
to nothing." It was observed, in fact, that it was already like that of
an eight days' corpse. For all that, they stuck to the doctors' opinion:
"It is nothing." With only one exception, nobody seemed uneasy about
her; some even laughed. Mademoiselle de Montpensier alone showed
indignation at all this heartless indifference, and had the courage to
remark that "At any rate they should endeavour to save her soul," and
went in search of a confessor.

The people belonging to the household, one and all, recommended that the
cure of St. Cloud should be sent for, certain that, as he was unknown to
the Duchess, their mistress would confess nothing of moment to him.
Mademoiselle, however, would not hear of him as confessor. "Fetch
Bossuet," she said, "and meanwhile call in the Canon Feuillet."

Feuillet was a very wary ecclesiastic, and quite as prudent as the
physicians. He persuaded _Madame_ to offer herself up as a sacrifice to
Heaven without accusing anyone. The Duchess said, in fact, to Marshal de
Grammont, "They have poisoned me--but by mistake." She exhibited
throughout an admirable discretion and perfect gentleness. She embraced
the Duke, her husband, whispering to him--in allusion to the outrageous
arrest of the Chevalier de Lorraine--that she had "never been unfaithful
to him."

The English Ambassador having arrived, she spoke to him in English,
telling him to conceal from her brother that she had been poisoned. The
Abbe Feuillet, who had not quitted her, overhearing the word "_poison_,"
stopped her, saying, "_Madame_, think only of God now!" Bossuet, who
next came in, continues Feuillet, confirmed her in those thoughts of
self-abnegation and discretion. For a long time back, she had looked to
Bos