distractedly into the room where her rival was. She immediately threw
herself at the King's feet. "Yes," said she, "you are King of all
France; but that would be nothing to me if you were not also monarch of
my heart: do not forsake me, my beloved sovereign; I was nearly mad when
your life was attempted!" The Mother-Abbess cried out, "You are mad
now." The King embraced her, which appeared to restore her to
tranquility. They succeeded in getting her out of the room, and a few
days afterwards the unhappy girl was taken to a madhouse, where she was
treated as if she had been insane, for some days. But she knew well
enough that she was not so, and that the King had really been her lover.
This lamentable affair was related to me by the Mother-Abbess, when I had
some acquaintance with her at the time of the accouchement I have spoken
of, which I never had before, nor since.

To return to my history: Madame de Pompadour said to me, "Be constantly
with the 'accouchee', to prevent any stranger, or even the people of the
house, from speaking to her. You will always say that he is a very rich
Polish nobleman, who is obliged to conceal himself on account of his
relationship to the Queen, who is very devout. You will find a wet-nurse
in the house, to whom you will deliver the child. Guimard will manage
all the rest. You will go to church as a witness; everything must be
conducted as if for a substantial citizen. The young lady expects to lie
in in five or six days; you will dine with her, and will not leave her
till she is in a state of health to return to the Parc-aux-cerfs, which
she may do in a fortnight, as I imagine, without running any risk." I
went, that same evening, to the Avenue de Saint Cloud, where I found the
Abbess and Guimard, an attendant belonging to the castle, but without his
blue coat. There were, besides, a nurse, a wet-nurse, two old
men-servants, and a girl, who was something between a servant and a
waiting-woman. The young lady was extremely pretty, and dressed very