if he treat me with
ceremony, yet loves me none the less.

Brought up by the Duc de Montausier, a sort of monkish soldier, and by
Bossuet, a sort of military monk, Monsieur le Dauphin had no good
examples from which to profit. Crammed as he is with Latin, Greek,
German, Spanish, and Church history, he knows all that they teach in
colleges, being totally ignorant of all that can only be learnt at the
Court of a king. He has no distinction of manner, no polish or
refinement of address; he laughs in loud guffaws, and even raises his
voice in the presence of his father. Having been born at Court, his way
of bowing is not altogether awkward; but what a difference between his
salute and that of the King! "Monseigneur looks just like a German
prince." That speech exactly hits him off,--a portrait sketched by no
other brush than that of his royal father.

Monseigneur, who does not like me, pays me court the same as any one
else. Being very jealous of the pretty Comte de Vermandois and his
brother, the Duc du Maine, he tries to imitate their elegant manner, but
is too stiff to succeed. The Duc du Maine shows him the respect inspired
by his governess, but the Comte de Vermandois, long separated from his
mother, has been less coached in this respect, and being thoroughly
candid and sincere, shows little restraint. Often, instead of styling
him "Monseigneur," he calls him merely "Monsieur le Dauphin," while the
latter, as if such a title were common or of no account, looks at his
brother and makes no reply.

When I told the King about such petty fraternal tiffs, he said, "With
age, all that will disappear; as a man grows taller, he gets a better,
broader view of his belongings."

M. le Dauphin shows a singular preference for Mademoiselle de Nantes, but
my daughter, brimful of wit and fun, often makes merry at the expense of
her exalted admirer.

Mademoiselle de Blois, the eldest daughter of Madame de la Valliere, is
the handsomest, most charming person it is possible to imagine. Her
slim, graceful figure reminds one of the beautiful goddesses, with whom
poets entertain us; she abounds in accomplishments and every sort of
charm. Her tender solicitude for her mother, and their constant close
companionship, have doubtless served to quicken her intelligence and
penetration.

Like the King, she is somewhat grave; she has the same large brown eyes,
and just his Austrian lip, his shapely hand and well-turned leg, almost