and sign your name in proper style.”

Her advice was considered sound, but the Abbess, taking into account the King’s susceptibility, decided that it would not do for me to write myself about a matter so important as this.  The Marquise de Thianges, in some way or other, had got the knack of plain speaking, so that a letter of hers would be more readily excused.  Thus it was settled that she should write; and write she did.  I give her letter verbatim, as it will please my readers; and they will agree with me that I could never have touched this delicate subject so happily myself.

Sire:—­Madame de Montespan had the honour of writing one or two notes to you during our journey, and now she rests all day long in this vast and pleasant abbey, where your Majesty’s name is held in as great veneration as elsewhere, being beloved as deeply as at Versailles.  Madame de Mortemart has caused one of the best portraits of your Majesty, done by Mignard, to be brought hither from Paris, and this magnificent personage in royal robes is placed beneath an amaranth-coloured dais, richly embroidered with gold, at the extreme end of a vast hall, which bears the name of our illustrious and well-beloved monarch.  Your privileges are great, in truth, Sire.  Here you are, installed in this pious and secluded retreat, where never mortal may set foot.  Before you, beside you daily, you may contemplate the multitude of modest virgins who look at you and admire you, becoming all of them attached to you without wishing it, perhaps without knowing it, even.

Surely, Sire, your penetration is a most admirable thing.  After your first interview with her, you considered our dear Abbess to be a woman of capacity and talent.  You rightly appreciated her, for nothing can be compared to the perfect order that prevails in her house.  She is active and industrious without sacrificing her position and her dignity in the slightest.  Like yourself, she can judge of things in their entirety, and examine them in every little detail; like yourself, she knows how to command obedience and affection, desiring nothing but that which is just and reasonable.  In a word, Sire, Madame de Mortemart has the secret of convincing her subordinates that she is acting solely in their interests, a supreme mission, in sooth, among men; and my sister really has no other desire nor ambition,—­to this we can testify.

Upon our return, which for our liking can never be too soon, we will acquaint your Majesty with the slight authorised mortification which we had to put up with at Orleans.  We are in possession of certain information regarding this, and your Majesty will have ample means of throwing a light upon the subject.  As for the magistrates, they behaved most wonderfully; they had an address all ready for us, but Madame de Montespan would not listen to it, saying that “such honours are meet only for you and for your children.”  Such modesty on my sister’s part is in keeping