who arrived quite distracted. The Princess of Conti, his daughter, who
was deeply attached to Monseigneur, repulsed him gently: "You must think
only of yourself now, Sir," she said. The king let himself sink down
upon a sofa, asking news of all that came out of the room, without any
one's daring to give him an answer. Madame de Maintenon, who had hurried
to the king, and was agitated without being affected, tried to get him
away; she did not succeed, however, until Monseigneur had breathed his
last. He passed along to his carriage between two rows of officers and
valets, all kneeling, and conjuring him to have pity upon them who had
lost all and were like to starve.

[Illustration: The King leaving the Death-bed of Monseigneur----36]

The excitement and confusion at Versailles were tremendous. From the
moment that small-pox was declared, the princes had not been admitted to
Meudon. The Duchess of Burgundy alone had occasionally seen the king.
All were living in confident expectation of a speedy convalescence; the
news of the death came upon them like a thunderclap. All the courtiers
thronged together at once, the women half dressed, the men anxious and
concerned, some to conceal their extreme sorrow, others their joy,
according as they were mixed up in the different cabals of the court.
"It was all, however, nothing but a transparent veil," says St. Simon,
"which did not prevent good eyes from observing and discerning all the
features. The two princes and the two princesses, seated beside them,
taking care of them, were most exposed to view. The Duke of Burgundy
wept, from feeling and in good faith, with an air of gentleness, tears of
nature, of piety, and of patience. The Duke of Berry, in quite as good
faith, shed abundance, but tears, so to speak, of blood, so great
appeared to be their bitterness; he gave forth not sobs, but shrieks,
howls. The Duchess of Berry (daughter of the Duke of Orleans) was beside