d this it is
that I dislike.

Our bride-elect is putting, as we say here, as good a face as she can
upon a bad bargain; although her language is gay her eyes are swollen,
and it is suspected that she has been weeping all night. The Grand
Prior, who is also General of the Galleys, will escort his sister into
Italy. The Grand Duchess of Tuscany says that she will not see
Mademoiselle de Valois nor speak to her, knowing very well what Italy is,
and believing that Mademoiselle de Valois will not be able to reconcile
herself to it. She is afraid that if her niece should ever return to
France they will say, "There is the second edition of the Grand Duchess;"
and that for every folly she may commit towards her father-in-law and
husband they will add, "Such are the instructions which her aunt, the
Grand Duchess, has given her." For this reason she said she would not
go to see her.

The present has come from Modena; it does not consist of many pieces;
there is a large jewel for the bride, with some very fine diamonds, in
the midst of which is the portrait of the Prince of Modena, but it is
badly executed. This present is to be given on the day of the marriage
and at the signature of the contract in the King's presence; this
ceremony will take place on the 11th (of February, 1720). The nuptial
benediction will be pronounced on Monday, and on Thursday she will set
off. I never in my life saw a bride more sorrowful; for the last three
days she has neither eaten nor drunk, and her eyes are filled with tears.

I have been the prophetess of evil, but I have prophesied too truly.
When our Princess of Modena told me that she wished to go to Chelles to
bid her sister farewell, I told her that the measles had been in the
convent a short time before, that the Abbess herself had been attacked by
this disease, which was contagious. She replied that she would seek it.
I said such things are more easily found than anything good; you run a
risk of your life, and I recommend you to take care. Notwithstanding my
advice, she went on Sunday morning to Chelles, and passed the whole of
the day with her sister. Soon afterwards she found herself unwell, and
was laid up with the measles. Her consolation is that this illness
retards her journey.

On the 12th of March (1720) my son brought his daughter to bid me
farewell. She could not articulate a word. She took my hands, kissed
and pressed them, and then clasped her own. My son was muc