on if she had seen Mademoiselle Choin, and upon receiving negative
reply, was displeased. Instead of driving her away from the chateau he
inquired particularly after her! This, to say the least, looked as
though Mademoiselle Choin was Monseigneur's Maintenon--but the matter
remained incomprehensible to the last. Mademoiselle Choin threw no light
upon it, although she spoke on many other things concerning Monseigneur.
In the modest home at Paris, to which she had retired for the rest of her
days. The King gave her a pension of twelve thousand livres.

Monseigneur was, I have said, ignorant to the last degree, and had a
thorough aversion for learning; so that, according to his own admission,
ever since he had been released from the hands of teachers he had never
read anything except the article in the "Gazette de France," in which
deaths and marriages are recorded. His timidity, especially before the
King, was equal to his ignorance, which indeed contributed not a little
to cause it. The King took advantage of it, and never treated him as a
son, but as a subject. He was the monarch always, never the father.
Monseigneur had not the slightest influence with the King. If he showed
any preference for a person it was enough! That person was sure to be
kept back by the King. The King was so anxious to show that Monseigneur
could do nothing, that Monseigneur after a time did not even try. He
contented himself by complaining occasionally in monosyllables, and by
hoping for better times.

The body of Monseigneur so soon grew decomposed; that immediate burial
was necessary. At midnight on Wednesday he was carried, with but little
ceremony, to Saint-Denis, and deposited in the royal vaults. His funeral
services were said at Saint-Denis on the 18th of the following June, and
at Notre Dame on the 3rd of July. As the procession passed through Paris
nothing but cries, acclamations, and eulogiums of the defunct were heard.
Monseigneur had, I know not how, much endeared himself to the common
people of Paris, and this sentiment soon gained the provinces; so true it
is, that in France it costs little to its Princes to make themselves
almost adored!

The King soon got over his affliction for the loss of this son of fifty.
Never was a man so ready with tears, so backward with grief, or so
promptly restored to his ordinary state. The morning after the death of
Monseigneur he rose late, called M. de Beauvilliers into his cabinet