It must be admitted, that for him who is well acquainted with the privacies of a Court, the first sight of rare events of this nature, so interesting in so many different respects, is extremely satisfactory.  Every countenance recalls the cares, the intrigues, the labours employed in the advancement of fortunes—­in the overthrow of rivals:  the relations, the coldness, the hatreds, the evil offices done, the baseness of all; hope, despair, rage, satisfaction, express themselves in the features.  See how all eyes wander to and fro examining what passes around—­how some are astonished to find others more mean, or less mean than was expected!  Thus this spectacle produced a pleasure, which, hollow as it may be, is one of the greatest a Court can bestow.

The turmoil in this vast apartment lasted about an hour, at the end of which M. de Beauvilliers thought it was high time to deliver the Princes of their company.  The rooms were cleared.  M. le Duc de Berry went away to his rooms, partly supported by his wife.  All through the night he asked, amid tears and cries, for news from Meudon; he would not understand the cause of the King’s departure to Marly.  When at length the mournful curtain was drawn from before his eyes, the state he fell into cannot be described.  The night of Monseigneur and Madame de Bourgogne was more tranquil.  Some one having said to the Princess, that having—­no real cause to be affected, it would be terrible to play a part, she replied, quite naturally, that without feigning, pity touched her and decorum controlled her; and indeed she kept herself within these bounds with truth and decency.  Their chamber, in which they invited several ladies to pass the night in armchairs, became immediately a palace of Morpheus.  All quietly fell asleep.  The curtains were left open, so that the Prince and Princess could be seen sleeping profoundly.  They woke up once or twice for a moment.  In the morning the Duke and Duchess rose early, their tears quite dried up.  They shed no more for this cause, except on special and rare occasions.  The ladies who had watched and slept in their chamber, told their friends how tranquil the night had been.  But nobody was surprised, and as there was no longer a Monseigneur, nobody was scandalised.  Madame de Saint-Simon and I remained up two hours before going to bed, and then went there without feeling any want of rest.  In fact, I slept so little that at seven in the morning I was up; but it must be admitted that such restlessness is sweet, and such re-awakenings are savoury.

Horror reigned at Meudon.  As soon as the King left, all the courtiers left also, crowding into the first carriages that came.  In an instant Meudon was empty.  Mademoiselle Choin remained alone in her garret, and unaware of what had taken place.  She learned it only by the cry raised.  Nobody thought of telling her.  At last some friends went up to her, hurried her into a hired coach, and