the
irregular life which his mother, La Florence, has led. He fears being
laughed at for acknowledging children so different. The Abbe Dubois was
a chief cause, too, why my son would not acknowledge this son. It was
because the Abbe, aspiring to the Cardinal's hat, was jealous of every
one who might be a competitor with him. I love this Abbe Saint-Albin, in
the first place, because he is attached to me, and, in the second,
because he is really very clever; he has wit and sense, with none of the
mummery of priests. My son does not esteem him half so much as he
deserves, for he is one of the best persons in the world; he is pious and
virtuous, learned in every point, and not vain. It is in vain for my son
to deny him; any one may see of what race he comes, and I am sorry that
he is not legitimated. My son is much more fond of Seri's Son.

The poor Abbe de Saint-Albin is grieved to death at not being
acknowledged; while Fortune smiles upon his elder brother, he is
forgotten, despised, and has no rank; he seeks only to be legitimated.
I console him as well as I can; but why should I tease my son about the
business?

[The Abbe de Saint-Albin was appointed Bishop of Laon, and, after
Dubois' death, Archbishop of Cambrai. When he wished to become a
member of the Parliament he could not give the names either of his
father or mother; he had been baptized in the name of Cauche, the
Regent's valet de chambre and purveyor.]

It would only put him in the way of greater inconveniences, for, as he
has also several children by Parabere, she would be no less desirous that
he should legitimate hers. This consideration ties my tongue.

The daughter of the actress Desmarets is somewhat like her mother, but
she is like no one else. She was educated in a convent at Saint Denis,
but had no liking for a nun's life. When my son had her first brought to
him she did not know who she was. When my son told her he was her
father, she was transported with joy, fancying that she was the daughter
of Seri and sister to the Chevalier; she thought, too, that she would be
legitimated immediately. When my son told her that could not be done,
and that she was Desmarets' daughter, she wept excessively. Her mother
had never been permitted to see her in the convent; the nuns would not
have allowed it, and her presence would have been injurious to the child.
From the time she was born, her mother had not seen her until the present
year (1719),