her.  The poor Dauphine never distrusted this woman, who had been educated with her, and had accompanied her to France; she did not imagine that falsehood and perfidy existed to such an extent as this infernal creature carried them.  I was perfectly amazed at it.  I opposed Bessola, and did all I could to console the Dauphine and to alleviate her vexation.  She told me when she was dying that I had prolonged her life by two years by inspiring her with courage.  My exertions, however, procured for me Maintenon’s cordial hatred, which lasted to the end of her life.  Although the Dauphine might have something to reproach herself with, she was not to be taken to task for it by that old woman, for who had ever led a less circumspect life than she?  In public, or when we were together, she never said anything unpleasant to me, for she knew that I would not have failed to answer her properly, as I knew her whole life.  Villarceaux had told me more of her than I desired to know.

When the King was talking to me on his death-bed she turned as red as fire.

“Go away, Madame,” said she; “the King is too much affected while he talks to you; it may do him harm.  Pray go away.”

As I went out she followed me and said, “Do not think, Madame, that I have ever done you an ill turn with the King.”

I answered her with tears, for I thought I should choke with grief:  “Madame, do not let us talk upon that subject,” and so quitted her.

That humpbacked old Fagon, her favourite, used to say that he disliked Christianity because it would not allow him to build a temple to Maintenon and an altar to worship her.

The only trait in her character that I can find to praise is her conduct to Montchevreuil; although she was a wicked old devil, Maintenon had reason to love her and be kind to her, for she had fed and clothed her when Maintenon was in great want.

I believe the old woman would not procure for Madame de Dangeau the privilege of the tabouret, only because she was a German and of good family.  She once had two young girls from Strasbourg brought to Court, and made them pass for Countesses Palatine, placing them in the office of attendants upon her nieces.  I did not know a word of it until the Dauphine came to tell it me with tears in her eyes.

I said to her, “Do not disturb yourself, leave me alone to act; when I have a good reason for what I do, I despise the old witch.”

When I saw from my window the niece walking with these German girls, I went into the garden and met them.  I called one of them, and asked her who she was.  She told me, boldly, that she was a Countess Palatine of Lutzelstein.

“By the left hand?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, “I am not illegitimate; the young Count Palatine married my mother, who is of the house of Gehlen.”