“‘Of course, the enemies of royalty and the partisans of Madame de la Motte did not fail, in after times, to lay this preconceived antipathy on the part of the king to the score of avarice, and to the dread he most naturally felt at the prospect of being compelled to resign the magnificent estates and royal privileges of the Valois to the legal claimants. If the suspicion had been just, he certainly would not have admitted their claim to the title at all. He might have resorted to delay, or have avoided the recognition altogether. As it was, however, the affair certainly displayed want of tact, and great mismanagement, in the allotment of the pension. Either the claim set forth by the Saint Remys was an imposture, and should have been treated with contempt, or it was just, and, when once recognised as such, should have been met with the liberality and consideration which it deserved. This first error was most bitterly expiated, and Louis Seize must often have mourned most grievously over the want of consistency and false economy of his ministers. “‘I cannot help thinking that a more liberal allowance, by rendering unnecessary all the struggles for existence which Madame de la Motte was compelled to make, might have deadened her ambition, and she might have spent her days, satisfied to display her love of intrigue, and exhibit her powers of fascination, on the restricted theatre of Bar-sur-Aube, her husband’s birthplace and her own, to which she was much attached, and which she herself declared she never would have left, had not her presence been considered necessary in Paris, so long as there was hope that the estates might be restored to her family. Every one who knows the sequel of her history must remember that (supposing her to be guilty) it was the affection she bore to her native place, which was the ultimate cause of her ruin; for, had she followed the advice of friends, and fled to England immediately, she might have been saved. But no—how _could_ she leave the country without taking one last farewell of her beloved Bar-sur-Aube?—one of the ugliest places, by the bye, throughout the whole of France.