eakness was so strong in me that hardly now am I capable
of sacrificing it to God. After having given you all my youth, the
remainder of my life is not too much for the care of my salvation.'"
The king still clung to her. "He sent M. Colbert to beg her earnestly
to come to Versailles that he might speak with her. M. Colbert
escorted her thither and the king conversed for an hour with her and
wept bitterly. Mme. de Montespan was there to meet her, with open arms
and tears in her eyes." "It is all incomprehensible," adds Mme. de
Sevigne; "some say that she will remain at Versailles and at court,
others that she will return to Chaillot; we shall see."

Mlle. de La Valliere remained three years at court, "half penitent,"
she said, humbly, detained by the king's express wish, in consequence
of the tempers and jealousies of Mme. de Montespan who felt herself
judged and condemned by her rival's repentance. Attempts were made to
turn Mlle. de La Valliere from her inclination for the Carmelites':
"Madame," said Mme. Scarron to her, one day, "here are you one
blaze of gold; have you really considered that, before long, at the
Carmelites' you will have to wear serge?" She, however, was not to
be dissuaded from her determination and was already practising, in
secret, the austerities of the convent. "God has laid in this heart
the foundation of great things," said Bossuet, who supported her in
her conflict; "the world puts great hindrances in her way, and God
great mercies; I have hopes that God will prevail; the uprightness of
her heart will carry everything before it."

"When I am in trouble at the Carmelites'," said Mlle. de La Valliere,
as for the last time she quitted the court, "I shall think of what
those people have made me suffer." "The world itself makes us sick of
the world," said Bossuet in the sermon which he preached on the day
she took the veil; "its attractions have enough of illusion, its
favors enough of inconstancy, its rebuffs enough of bitterness.
There is enough of bitterness, enough of injustice and perfidy in the
dealings of men, enough of inconsistency and capriciousness in their
intractable and contradictory humors--there is enough of it all, to
disgust us."

When, in 1675, she took the final vows, she cut off her beautiful hair
and devoted herself to the church and to charity, receiving the veil
from the queen, whose forgiveness she sought before entering the
convent. The king showed himself to be such