I appeared in a long robe of gold and silver before the new spouse of the monarch.  The King, who was sitting at a table, rose for a moment and encouraged me by his greeting.  I made the three pauses and three reverences as I gradually approached Madame de Maintenon, who occupied a large and rich armchair of brocade.  She did not rise; etiquette forbade it, and principally the presence of the all-powerful King of kings.  Her complexion, ordinarily pale, and with a very slight tone of pink, was animated suddenly, and took all the colours of the rose.  She made me a sign to seat myself on a stool, and it seemed to me that her amiable gaze apologised to me.  She spoke to me of Petit-Bourg, of the waters of Bourbon, of her country-place, of my children, and said to me, smiling kindly:  “I am going to confide in you.  Monsieur le Prince has already asked Mademoiselle de Names for his grandson, M. le Duc de Bourbon, and his Highness promises us his granddaughter for our Duc du Maine.  Two or three years more, and we shall see all that.”

After half an hour spent thus, I rose from this uncomfortable stool and made my farewell reverences.  Madame de Maintenon, profiting by the King having leaned over to write, rose five or six inches in her chair, and said to me these words:  “Do not let us cease to love one another, I implore you.”

I went to rest myself in the poor apartment which was still mine, since the keys had not yet been returned, and I sent for M. le Duc du Maine, who said to me coldly:  “I have much pleasure in seeing you again; we were going to write to you.”

I had come out from Madame de Maintenon by the door of mirrors, which leads to the great gallery.  There was much company there at the moment; M. le Prince de Salm came to me and said:  “Go and put on your peignoir; you are flushed, and I can perfectly well understand why.”  He pressed my hand affectionately.  In all the salons they were eager to see me pass.  Some courageous persons came even within touch of my fan; and all were more or less pleased with my mishap and downfall.  I had seen all these figures at my feet, and almost all were under obligations to me.  I left Versailles again very early.  When I was seated in my carriage I noticed the King, who, from the height of his balcony in the court of marble, watched me set off and disappear.

I settled at Paris, where my personal interest and my great fortune gave me an existence which many might have envied.  I never returned to Versailles, except for the weddings of my eldest daughter, and of my son, the Serious;—­[Louis Augusts de Bourbon, Duc du Maine, a good man, somewhat devout and melancholy. (See the Memoirs of Dubois and Richelieu.)—­Editor’s Note.]—­I always loved him better than he did me.

Pere de Latour, my director, obtained from me then, what I had refused hitherto to everybody, a letter of reconciliation to M. le Marquis de Montespan:  I had foreseen the reply, which was that of an obstinate, ill-bred, and evil man.