his brother's soul.'"

The remainder of the Duchess's life-story is soon told. The days of her
queendom and glory were at an end. She was glad to escape to France
before James's tempestuous reign ended in tragedy. Here trouble and loss
were largely her portion. She lost favour with Louis to such an extent
that, at one time, he seriously thought of exiling her; her son deserted
and disgraced her; her ill-gotten riches took wings, until only a
pension of £800, wrung from Louis, saved her from absolute destitution.
True, she was still able to claim her _tabouret_ at the Court of
Versailles, and, for a few hours occasionally, to revive the glories of
the past; but apart from these ironical spasms of splendour she spent
her last years in loneliness and sadness, turning to a tardy piety as a
refuge from the coldness of the world, and as a solace for its lost
vanities. She saw all the great figures, among whom she had moved, pass
one by one behind the veil before she died, a wrinkled hag of
eighty-five, shorn of the last vestige of the charms which had wrought
such havoc in the world.




CHAPTER XV

THE MERRY DUCHESS


When Elizabeth Chudleigh first opened her eyes on the world, nearly two
centuries ago, at the Royal Hospital, Chelsea, of which her father was
Deputy-Governor, we may be sure that her parents little anticipated the