st. I know, from my son himself, that the Abbe, having one day met
him in the street, just as he was about to enter a house of ill-fame, did
nothing but laugh at him, instead of taking him by the arm and leading
him home again. By this culpable indulgence, and by the part he took in
my son's marriage, he has proved that there is neither faith nor honesty
in him. I know that I do him no wrong in suspecting him to have
contributed to my son's marriage; what I say I have from my son himself,
and from people who were living with that old Maintenon at the time, when
the Abbe used to go nightly for the purpose of arranging that intrigue
with her, the object of which was to sell and betray his master. He
deceives himself if he fancies that I do not know all this. At first he
had declared in my favour, but after the old woman had sent for him two
or three times he suddenly changed his conduct. It was not, however, on
this that the King afterwards took a dislike to him, but for a nefarious
scheme in which he was engaged with the Pere La Chaise. Monsieur was as
much vexed as I. The King and the old woman threatened to dismiss all
his favourites, which made him consent to everything; he repented
afterwards, but it was then too late.

I would to God that the Abbe Dubois had as much religion as he has
talent! but he believes in nothing--he is treacherous and wicked--his
falsehood may be seen in his very eyes. He has the look of a fox; and
his device is an animal of this sort, creeping out of his hole and
watching a fowl. He is unquestionably a good scholar, talks well, and
has instructed my son well; but I wish he had ceased to visit his pupil
after his tuition was terminated. I should not then have to regret this
unfortunate marriage, to which I can never reconcile myself. Excepting
the Abbe Dubois there is no priest in my son's favour. He has a sort of
indistinctness in his speech, which makes it sometimes necessary for him
to repeat his words; and this often annoys me.

If there is anything which detracts from the Abbe's good sense it is his
extreme pride; it is a weak side upon which he may always be successfully
attacked. I wish my son had as little confidence in him as I have; but
what astonishes me most is that, knowing him as he does, better than I
do, he will still trust him. My son is like the rest of his family; he
cannot get rid of persons to whom he is accustomed, and as the Abbe has
been his tutor, he ha