r to the palace on
this occasion. Here occurred the last interview between the heartless
king and his discarded favorite.

As the king made the tour of the room, he found himself opposite
Madame de Montespan. She was greatly overcome by her emotions, and,
pale and trembling, was near fainting. The king coldly and
searchingly, for a moment, fixed his eye upon her, and then said,
calmly,

"Madame, I congratulate you. You are still as handsome and attractive
as ever. I hope that you are also happy."

The marchioness replied, "At this moment, sire, I am very happy, since
I have the honor of presenting my respectful homage to your majesty."

The king, with his studied grace of courtesy, kissed her hand, and
continued his progress around the circle. The monarch and his perhaps
equally guilty victim never met again. She lived twenty-two years
after her expulsion from the palace. They were twenty-two years of
joylessness. Her confessor, who seems to have been a man of sincere
piety, refused her absolution until she had written to her husband,
the Marquis de Montespan, whom she had abandoned for the guilty love
of the king, affirming her heartfelt repentance, imploring his
forgiveness, and entreating him either to receive her back, or to
order her to any place of residence which he should think proper. The
indignant marquis replied that he would neither admit her to his
house, nor prescribe for her any future rules of conduct, nor suffer
her name ever again to be mentioned in his presence.

The reverend father compelled her, in atonement for her sins, to sit
at a frugal table; to consecrate her vast wealth to objects of
benevolence; to wear haircloth next her skin, and around her waist a
girdle with sharp points, which lacerated her body at every movement.
She was also daily employed in making garments of the coarsest
materials with her own hands for the sick in the hospitals, and for
the poor in their squalid homes.

The guilty marchioness was dreadfully afraid of death. Every night a
careful guard of women watched her bedside. In a thunder-storm she
would take an infant in her lap, that the child's innocence might be
her protection. In the night of the 26th of May, 1707, she was
attacked in her bed by very distressing suffocation. One of her sons,
the Marquis of Antin, was immediately sent for. He found his mother
insensible. Seizing a casket which contained her jewels, he demanded
of an attendant the key. It was suspe