on. I coped with my brother. They feared the consequences; they
annihilated me. I was taught only to play and to hunt,: and they have
succeeded in making me a fool and an ass, incapable of anything, the
laughing-stock and disdain of everybody." Madame de Saint-Simon was
overpowered with compassion, and did everything to calm M. de Berry.
Their strange tete-a-tete lasted nearly two hours, and resumed the next
day but with less violence. By degrees M. le Duc de Berry became
consoled, but never afterwards did any one dare to speak to him of his
misadventure at the peace ceremony.

Let me here say that, the ceremony over, peace was signed at Utrecht on
the 20th April, 1713, at a late hour of the night. It was published in
Paris with great solemnity on the 22nd. Monsieur and Madame du Maine,
who wished to render themselves popular, came from Sceaux to see the
ceremony in the Place Royale, showed themselves on a balcony to the
people, to whom they threw some money--a liberality that the King would
not have permitted in anybody else. At night fires were lighted before
the houses, several of which were illuminated: On the 25th a Te Deum was
sung at Notre Dame, and in the evening there was a grand display of
fireworks at the Grave, which was followed by a superb banquet given at
the Hotel de Ville by the Duc de Tresmes, the Governor of Paris, to a
large number of distinguished persons of both sexes of the Court and the
city, twenty-four violins playing during the repast.

I have omitted to mention the death of M. de Chevreise, which took place
between seven and eight o'clock in the morning on Saturday, the 5th of
November; of the previous year (1712). I have so often alluded to M. de
Chevreuse in the course of these pages, that I will content myself with
relating here two anecdotes of him, which serve to paint a part of his
character.

He was very forgetful, and adventures often happened to him in
consequence, which diverted us amazingly. Sometimes his horses were put
to and kept waiting for him twelve or fifteen hours at a time. Upon one
occasion in summer this happened at Vaucresson, whence he was going to
dine at Dampierre. The coachman, first, then the postilion, grew tired
of looking after the horses, and left them. Towards six o'clock at night
the horses themselves were in their turn worn out, bolted, and a din was
heard which shook the house. Everybody ran out, the coach was found
smashed, the large door shivered in pie