Val de Grace. It was taken
from her body, cased in a costly urn, and conveyed to the convent in a
carriage. The Archbishop of Auch seated himself beside the senseless
relic, while the Duchess of Montpensier occupied another seat in the
coach.

At 7 o'clock of the next evening the remains of the queen left the
Louvre for the royal sepulchre at St. Denis. It was a gloomy winter's
night. Many torches illumined the path of the procession, exhibiting
to the thousands of spectators the solemn pageant of the burial. The
ecclesiastics and the monks, in their gorgeous or picturesque robes,
the royal sarcophagus, the sombre light of the torches, the royal
coaches in funereal drapery, and the wailing requiems, now swelling
upon the breeze, and now dying away, blending with the voices of
tolling bells, presented one of the most mournful and instructive of
earthly spectacles. The queen had passed to that tribunal where no
aristocratic privileges are recognized, and where all earthly wealth
and rank are disregarded.

The funeral services were prolonged and imposing. It was not until two
hours after midnight that the remains were deposited in the vaults of
the venerable abbey, the oldest Christian church in France.

[Illustration: INTERIOR OF ST. DENIS.]

The death of the queen-mother does not seem to have produced much
effect upon the conduct of her ambitious and pleasure-loving son. He
had cruelly betrayed the young and guileless Mademoiselle de la
Valliere, and she never ceased to weep over her sad fate. The king,
however, conferred upon her the duchy of Vaujours, and the title of
Madame. Her beauty began to fade. Younger and happier faces attracted
the king. He became more and more arrogant and domineering.

There was at that time rising into notice in this voluptuous court a
young lady who was not only magnificently beautiful, but extremely
brilliant in her intellectual endowments. She was of illustrious
birth, and was lady of the palace to the young queen. She deliberately
fixed her affections upon Louis, and resolved to employ all the arts
of personal loveliness and the fascinations of wit to win his
exclusive favor. She had given her hand, constrained by her family, to
the young Marquis de Montespan. She had, however, stated at the time
that with her hand she did not give her heart.

The young marquis seems to have been a very worthy man. Disgusted with
the folly and the dissipation of the court, he was anxious to
wit