On Wednesday, the 17th, the malady considerably increased.  I had news at all moments of the Dauphin’s state from Cheverny, an excellent apothecary of the King and of my family.  He hid nothing from us.  He had told us what he thought of the Dauphine’s illness; he told us now what he thought of the Dauphin’s.  I no longer hoped therefore, or rather I hoped to the end, against all hope.

On Wednesday the pains increased.  They were like a devouring fire, but more violent than ever.  Very late into the evening the Dauphin sent to the King for permission to receive the communion early the next morning, without ceremony and without display, at the mass performed in his chamber.  Nobody heard of this, that evening; it was not known until the following morning.  I was in extreme desolation; I scarcely saw the King once a day.  I did nothing but go in quest of news several times a day, and to the house of M. de Chevreuse, where I was completely free.  M. de Chevreuse—­always calm, always sanguine—­endeavoured to prove to us by his medical reasonings that there was more reason to hope than to fear, but he did so with a tranquillity that roused my impatience.  I returned home to pass a cruel night.

On Thursday morning, the 18th of February, I learned that the Dauphin, who had waited for midnight with impatience, had heard mass immediately after the communion, had passed two hours in devout communication with God, and that his reason then became embarrassed.  Madame de Saint-Simon told me afterwards that he had received extreme unction:  in fine, that he died at half-past eight.  These memoirs are not written to describe my private sentiments.  But in reading them,—­if, long after me, they shall ever appear, my state and that of Madame de Saint-Simon will only too keenly be felt.  I will content myself with saying, that the first days after the Dauphin’s death scarcely appeared to us more than moments; that I wished to quit all, to withdraw from the Court and the world, and that I was only hindered by the wisdom, conduct, and power over me of Madame de Saint-Simon, who yet had much trouble to subdue my sorrowful desires.  Let me say something now of the young prince and his spouse, whom we thus lost in such quick succession.

Never did princess arrive amongst us so young with so much instruction, or with such capacity to profit by instruction.  Her skilful father, who thoroughly knew our Court, had painted it to her, and had made her acquainted with the only manner of making herself happy there.  From the first moment of her arrival she had acted upon his lessons.  Gentle, timid, but adroit, fearing to give the slightest pain to anybody, and though all lightness and vivacity, very capable of far-stretching views; constraint, even to annoyance, cost her nothing, though she felt all its weight.  Complacency was natural to her, flowed from her, and was exhibited towards every member of the Court.