My Lorraine children have arrived; my daughter was beside herself with
an excess of joy. I do not find her much changed, but her husband
is, dreadfully. He used to have a fine skin and now he has turned
to a red-brown and he is stouter than my son. I can say now that my
children are fatter than I.
My daughter is gay and content; but her husband seems preoccupied.
Yesterday she had a strong attack of fever: God grant it may not be
the forerunner of small-pox; for neither the Duc de Lorraine nor my
son have had it, and the duke would not fail to be with his wife;
three of his brothers have died of that terrible malady; therefore
I am very anxious about this. I will write you more about it on
Wednesday.
They told me yesterday that a nun has just died who was one hundred
and thirty years old; she had a long old age; I don't envy it; if one
could stay young it would be another thing and would make one's mouth
water for it.
The poor Princess of Wales causes me real pain. In a letter of the
3rd of this month she tells me that her husband and she have three
times asked pardon of the king as they would ask it of God, and
could not obtain it. I cannot understand such a thing. I fear that
the prince may be concerned in his mother's trouble. I have an idea
that the King of England believes he is not his son; for it does
not seem possible that he should act with his own child as he has
been acting. But, in any case, it appears to me that if he publicly
recognizes him as his son he ought to treat him as a son, and not
behave so rigorously to a princess who, in all her life, never did
anything against him and has always honoured and loved him as a
father. From what I see and know, I think no good will ever come of
it; the irritation is too great. But the king had better put an end
to the matter, for it leads to a hundred impertinent things being
said, and renews certain old and villanous tales that had better be
forgotten. May God guide all for the best! I have been told that a
sort of petition has been sent to the Prince of Wales in which it was
said that if he had any honour he would admit that the kingdom did
not belong to him, but to the legitimate sovereign, now called The
Pretender; who was the son of James II. as surely as he, the prince,
was the son of Comte Königsmarck. It was terribly insolent.