so has M. de La Rochefoucauld; and myself also, but not so much
as you two. VOILA an example which will guide you."

She disliked writing letters, and usually limited herself to a
few plain facts, often in her late years to a simple bulletin of
her health. This negligence was the subject of many passages-at-
arms between herself and Mme. de Sevigne. "If I had a lover who
wished my letters every morning, I would break with him," she
writes. "Do not measure our friendship by our letters. I shall
love you as much in writing you only a page in a month, as you me
in writing ten in eight days." Again she replies to some
reproach: "Make up your mind, ma belle, to see me sustain, all my
life, with the whole force of my eloquence, that I love you still
more than you love me. I will make Corbinelli agree with me in a
quarter of an hour; your distrust is your sole defect, and the
only thing in you that can displease me."

But in spite of a certain apparent indolence, and her constant
ill health, there were many threads that connected with the
outside world the pleasant room in which Mme. de La Fayette spent
so many days of suffering. "She finds herself rich in friends
from all sides and all conditions," writes Mme. de Sevigne; "she
has a hundred arms; she reaches everywhere. Her children
appreciate all this, and thank her every day for possessing a
spirit so engaging." She goes to Versailles, on one of her best
days, to thank the king for a pension, and receives so many kind
words that it "suggests more favors to come." He orders a
carriage and accompanies her with other ladies through the park,
directing his conversation to her, and seeming greatly pleased
with her judicious praise. She spends a few days at Chantilly,