The civil lieutenant went to his estate at Villequoy in Beauce, to spend Easter with his family. In 1670 Easter fell on April 6. His brother the councillor made one of the party, and took La Chaussée with him as his only attendant. While they stayed at Villequoy La Chaussée helped in the kitchen. One day a tart came to table, of which all who ate were very ill on the morrow, while the others remained quite well. On April 12 they returned to Paris, and the civil lieutenant had the appearance of a man who had suffered great pain. The details of the poisoning are horrible. As D'Aubray did his best to restore his health, the poison did not take effect so quickly as usual; he was very difficult to kill. La Chaussée, assiduous in his attentions, gave his master poison at every possible opportunity. His body was so offensive during his illness that it was impossible to remain in the room with him; and he was so irritable that no one could approach him. Madame de Brinvilliers rarely showed herself, but sent her pious sister to take her place. Meanwhile La Chaussée was unremitting in his care; no one but him could change the bedclothes or the mattress. The unhappy man suffered unspeakable torture. La Chaussée could not help exclaiming: 'This fellow holds out well! He's giving us a good deal of trouble! I don't know when he will give up the ghost!' Madame de Brinvilliers was at Sains in Picardy. She told Briancourt, the tutor who had become her lover, that the poisoning of her brother the councillor was in progress. She explained to him that she wanted to set up 'a good house'; that her eldest son, who was already nicknamed the President, would one day fill the post of civil lieutenant, and added that 'there was still a good deal to be done.' These sentiments were sincere. Madame de Brinvilliers endeavoured to bring up and establish her children--'who were her own flesh,' as she said--in conformity with the brilliant dreams she nourished for the future of her 'house.' True, she began to poison her eldest daughter, but that was because she thought her a ninny. She was seized with regret, however, and made her drink milk as an antidote. Such was one of her dominant preoccupations. To this must be added her longing to live with 'honour,' that is, with a brilliant household, with beautiful ornaments, keeping up a great style, and entertaining her lovers with magnificence. She longed for 'the glory of the world,' a phrase continually on her lips. It was for 'honour' that she poisoned so many people. Such was her own statement.