His avariciousness, except in certain things, passed all belief.  He kept an account of his personal expenditure, and knew to a penny what his smallest and his largest expenses amounted to.  He spent large sums in building, in furniture, in jewels, and in hunting, which he made himself believe he was fond of.

It is inconceivable the little he gave to La Choin, whom he so much loved.  It never exceeded four hundred Louis a quarter in gold, or sixteen hundred Louis a year, whatever the Louis might be worth.  He gave them to her with his own hand, without adding or subtracting a pistole, and, at the most, made her but one present a year, and that he looked at twice before giving.  It was said that they were married, and certain circumstances seemed to justify this rumour.  As for instance, during the illness of Monseigneur, the King, as I have said, asked Madame de Maintenon if she had seen Mademoiselle Choin, and upon receiving negative reply, was displeased.  Instead of driving her away from the chateau he inquired particularly after her!  This, to say the least, looked as though Mademoiselle Choin was Monseigneur’s Maintenon—­but the matter remained incomprehensible to the last.  Mademoiselle Choin threw no light upon it, although she spoke on many other things concerning Monseigneur.  In the modest home at Paris, to which she had retired for the rest of her days.  The King gave her a pension of twelve thousand livres.

Monseigneur was, I have said, ignorant to the last degree, and had a thorough aversion for learning; so that, according to his own admission, ever since he had been released from the hands of teachers he had never read anything except the article in the “Gazette de France,” in which deaths and marriages are recorded.  His timidity, especially before the King, was equal to his ignorance, which indeed contributed not a little to cause it.  The King took advantage of it, and never treated him as a son, but as a subject.  He was the monarch always, never the father.  Monseigneur had not the slightest influence with the King.  If he showed any preference for a person it was enough!  That person was sure to be kept back by the King.  The King was so anxious to show that Monseigneur could do nothing, that Monseigneur after a time did not even try.  He contented himself by complaining occasionally in monosyllables, and by hoping for better times.

The body of Monseigneur so soon grew decomposed; that immediate burial was necessary.  At midnight on Wednesday he was carried, with but little ceremony, to Saint-Denis, and deposited in the royal vaults.  His funeral services were said at Saint-Denis on the 18th of the following June, and at Notre Dame on the 3rd of July.  As the procession passed through Paris nothing but cries, acclamations, and eulogiums of the defunct were heard.  Monseigneur had, I know not how, much endeared himself to the common people of Paris, and this sentiment soon gained the provinces; so true it is, that in France it costs little to its Princes to make themselves almost adored!