devotions. I said she might do that anywhere, that the place mattered
not, but that all depended upon her own heart, and the preparation which
she made. She, however, persisted in her desire to go to Chelles. I
said to her mother:

"You must decide whether your daughter shall go to Chelles or not."

She replied, "We cannot hinder her performing her devotions."

[In the Memoirs of the time it is said that Mademoiselle de
Chartres, being at the Opera with her mother, exclaimed, while
Caucherau was singing a very tender air, "Ah! my dear Caucherau!"
and that her mother, thinking this rather too expressive, resolved
to send her to a convent.]

So yesterday morning at seven o'clock she set off in a coach; she
afterwards sent back the carriage, with a letter to her father, her
mother, and myself, declaring that she will never more quit that accursed
cloister. Her mother, who has a liking for convents, is not very deeply
afflicted; she looks upon it as a great blessing to be a nun, but, for my
part, I think it is one of the greatest misfortunes.

My son went yesterday to Chelles, and took with him the Cardinal de
Noailles, to try for the last time to bring his daughter away from the
convent. (20th July, 1718.)

My heart is full when I think that our poor Mademoiselle d'Orleans has
made the profession of her vows. I said to her all I could, in the hope
of diverting her from this diabolical project, but all has been useless.
(23rd August, 1718.) I should not have restrained my tears if I had been