is at Val-de-Grace; it will beat no more, neither for her
volatile husband, nor for any one whatsoever.

Madame la Dauphine, brought up in German severity, and hardly accustomed
to the atmosphere of her new country, neither likes nor respects you, nor
has any indulgence for you. She barely suffers the presence of your
children, although brothers of her husband. How should she tolerate
yours? It appears, it is plain, Madame la Marquise, that your name has
found no place or footing on her list, and that she would rather not meet
you often in her salons. If one may even speak to you confidentially,
she has thus expressed herself; it would be cruel for you to hear of it
from any other being but me.

Believe me, believe a man as noted for his good qualities as for his
weaknesses. He will never drive you away, for you are the mother of his
beloved children, and he has loved you himself tenderly. However, his
coldness is going to increase. Will you be sufficiently light-hearted,
or sufficiently imprudent, to await on a counterscarp the rigours of
December and January?

Keep your wit always, Madame la Marquise, and with this wit, which is
such a charming resource, do not divest yourself of your noble pride.

I am, always, your respectful and devoted servant,

THE UNKNOWN OF THE CHATEAU.

At the time of the first letter, when I had hesitated some time, doubtful
between Madame de Maintenon and the King, it occurred to me to suspect
the Queen for a moment; but there was no possibility now of imputing to
this princess, dead and gone, the unbecoming annoyance that an unknown
permitted himself to cause me.

On this occasion I chose my part resolutely; and, not wishing to busy
myself any longer with these pretended friendly counsels which my pride
forbade me to follow, I took these two insolent letters and burned them.
This last letter, after all, spoke very truly. I remarked distinctly, in
the looks and manner of the Dauphine, that ridiculous and clumsy
animosity which she had taken a fancy to lavish on me.

As she was not, in my eyes, so sublime a personage that a lady of quality
might not enter into conversation with her, I approached her armchair
with the intention of upsetting her haughtiness and pride by compelling
her to speak to me before everybody.

I complimented her on her coiffure, and even thanked her for the honour
she did me in imitating me; she reddened, and I entreated her not to put
herself about, ass