ladies are said to be much given to running away with their
lovers. I knew a Count von Konigsmark, whom a young English lady
followed in the dress of a page. He had her with him at Chambord, and,
as there was no room for her in the castle, he lodged her under a tent
which he had put up in the forest. When we were at the chase one day he
told me this adventure. As I had a great curiosity to see her, I rode
towards the tent, and never in my life did I see anything prettier than
this girl in the habit of a page. She had large and beautiful eyes, a
charming little nose, and an elegant mouth and teeth. She smiled when
she saw me, for she suspected that the Count had told me the whole story.
Her hair was a beautiful chestnut colour, and hung about her neck in
large curls. After their departure from Chambord, while they were at an
inn upon their way to Italy, the innkeeper's wife ran to the Count,
crying, "Sir, make haste upstairs, for your page is lying-in." She was
delivered of a girl, and the mother and child were soon afterwards placed
in a convent near Paris. While the Count lived he took great care of
her, but he died in the Morea, and his pretended page did not long
survive him; she displayed great piety in the hour of death. A friend of
the Count's, and a nephew of Madame de Montespan, took care of the child,
and after his death the King gave the little creature a pension. I
believe she is still (1717) in the convent.

The Abbe Perrault founded an annual funeral oration for the Prince de
Conde in the Jesuits' Church, where his heart is deposited. I shall not
upon this occasion call to mind his victories, his courage in war, or his
timidity at Court; these are things well known throughout France.

A gentleman of my acquaintance at Paris heard a learned Abbe, who was in
the confidence of Descartes, say that the philosopher used often to laugh
at his own system, and said, "I have cut them out some work: we shall see
who will be fools enough to undertake it."

That old Beauvais, the Queen-mother's first femme de chambre, was
acquainted with the secret of her marriage, and this obliged the Queen to
put up with whatever the confidante chose to do. From this circumstance
has arisen that custom which gives femmes de chambre so much authority in
our apartments. The Queen-mother, the widow of Louis XIII., not
contented with loving Cardinal Mazarin, went the absurd length of
marrying him. He was not a priest, and