She entreated her husband to take her back to his estate in
Guyenne, and to leave her there till the king had forgotten her. Her
husband, in fatal confidence, trusted her resistance, and refused her
petition. It was a life-long sorrow; and he soon found his mistake. He
lived and died passionately attached to his wife, but never saw her
after her fall.
When she retired from court, to make room for the empire of the subtle
De Maintenon, it was her son, the Duc de Maine, who induced her, not
from love, but from ambition, to withdraw. She preserved, even in her
seclusion in the country, the style of a queen, which she had assumed.
Even her natural children by the king were never allowed to sit in her
presence, on a _fauteuil_, but were only permitted to have small chairs.
Every one went to pay her court, and she spoke to them as if doing them
an honour; neither did she ever return a visit, even from the royal
family. Her fatal beauty endured to the last: nothing could exceed her
grace, her tact, her good sense in conversation, her kindness to every
one.
But it was long before her restless spirit could find real peace. She
threw herself on the guidance of the Abbe de la Tour; for the dread of
death was ever upon her.
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