smiling at the mixture of piety, pomp, and carnality. From chapel we
went to the dinner of the elder Mesdames. We were almost stifled in the
antechamber, where their dishes were heating over charcoal, and where we
could not stir for the press. When the doors are opened, everybody
rushes in, princes of the blood, _cordons bleus_, abbés, housemaids, and
the Lord knows who and what. Yet, so used are their highnesses to this
trade, that they eat as comfortably and heartily as you or I could do in
our own parlours.

Our second act was much more agreeable. We quitted the Court and a
reigning mistress, for a dead one and a Cloister. In short, I had
obtained leave from the Bishop of Chartres to enter _into_ St. Cyr; and,
as Madame du Deffand never leaves anything undone that can give me
satisfaction, she had written to the abbess to desire I might see
everything that could be seen there. The Bishop's order was to admit me,
_Monsieur de Grave, et les dames de ma compagnie_: I begged the abbess
to give me back the order, that I might deposit it in the archives of
Strawberry, and she complied instantly. Every door flew open to us: and
the nuns vied in attentions to please us. The first thing I desired to
see was Madame de Maintenon's apartment. It consists of two small rooms,
a library, and a very small chamber, the same in which the Czar saw her,
and in which she died. The bed is taken away, and the room covered now
with bad pictures of the royal family, which destroys the gravity and
simplicity. It is wainscotted with oak, with plain chairs of the same,
covered with dark blue damask. Everywhere else the chairs are of blue
cloth. The simplicity and extreme neatness of the whole house, which is
vast, are very remarkable. A large apartment above (for that I have
mentioned is on the ground-floor), consisting of five rooms, and
destined by Louis Quatorze for Madame de Maintenon, is now the
infirmary, with neat white linen beds, and decorated with every text of