Thus never was change greater or more marked than that brought about by the death of Monseigneur.  That prince had become the centre of all hope and of all fear, a formidable cabal had seized upon him, yet without awakening the jealousy of the King, before whom all trembled, but whose anxieties did not extend beyond his own lifetime, during which, and very reasonably, he feared nothing.

Before I go any further, let me note a circumstance characteristic of the King.  Madame la Dauphine went every day to Marly to see him.  On the day after the death of Monseigneur she received, not without surprise, easily understood, a hint from Madame de Maintenon.  It was to the effect that she should dress herself with some little care, inasmuch as the negligence of her attire displeased the King!  The Princess did not think that dress ought to occupy her then; and even if she had thought so, she would have believed, and with good reason, that she was committing a grave fault against decorum, a fault which would have been less readily pardoned, since in every way she had gained too much by what had just occurred not to be very guarded in her behaviour.  On the next day she took more pains with her toilette; but what she did not being found sufficient, the day following she carried with her some things and dressed herself secretly in Madame de Maintenon’s rooms; and resumed there her ordinary apparel before returning to Versailles.  Thus she avoided offence both to the King and to society.  The latter certainly would with difficulty have been persuaded that in this ill-timed adornment of her person, her own tastes went for nothing.  The Comtesse de Mailly, who invented the scheme, and Madame de Nogaret, who both liked Monseigneur, related this to me and were piqued by it.  From this fact and from the circumstance that all the ordinary pleasures and occupations were resumed immediately after the death of Monseigneur, the King passing his days without any constraint,—­it may be assumed that if the royal grief was bitter its evidences were of a kind to promise that it would not be of long duration.

M. le Dauphin, for, as I have said, it is by that title I shall now name Monseigneur le Duc de Bourgogne—­M. le Dauphin, I say, soon gained all hearts.  In the first days of solitude following upon the death of Monseigneur, the King intimated to M. de Beauvilliers that he should not care to see the new Dauphin go very often to Meudon.  This was enough.  M. le Dauphin at once declared that he would never set his foot in that palace, and that he would never quit the King.  He was as good as his word, and not one single visit did he ever afterwards pay to Meudon.  The King wished to give him fifty thousand livres a month, Monseigneur having had that sum.  M. le Dauphin would not accept them.  He had only six thousand livres per month.  He was satisfied with double that amount and would not receive more.  This disinterestedness much pleased the public.  M. le Dauphin wished for nothing special on his account, and persisted in remaining in nearly everything as he was during the life of Monseigneur.  These auguries of a prudent and measured reign, suggested the brightest of hopes.