I am very sorry, my dear mother, that you do not receive my letters regularly; yours do not play me the same trick. The prospect of peace continues wonderfully good, and it makes me hope that we shall soon have it. I own to you, my dear mother, that I await it with great impatience, for I think we shall all have reason then to be satisfied. It will be a great consolation to me to see no more of this vile war which has lasted for so long a time. Adieu, my dear mother; love me always, and be assured of the tender feelings that I have for you. VERSAILLES, July 4, 1702. We have been much afflicted, my dear grandmother [by the death of Monsieur, her maternal grandfather] and I have felt for my own sake much more than I expected. I loved Monsieur very much and I think he loved me. His death was unexpected, at least by us, and all the circumstances were painful. I am convinced, my dear grandmother, that you have felt it also, and I count on your affection under all events. Never doubt that which I have for you. April 2, 1703. I am delighted, my dear grandmother, that you have given me a commission. I send you a sample of tea, which they assure me is excellent. If you find it so I will send you more. The king does not take it; M. Fagon orders him sage tea, which agrees with him. I hope the use of this tea will do the same with you; no one in the world feels more interest in you than I, my dear grandmother. [Only two letters of the year 1704 have been preserved. The health of the princess caused such anxiety that she was made (according to Dangeau's Journal) to keep her bed from February 8th until after the birth of her first child, the Duc de Bretagne, born June 25, 1704. She was then eighteen years old.] September 1, 1704. I am ashamed, my dear grandmother, to have been so long without writing to you; but I have had many ailments that prevented it. You will surely believe that I would not otherwise have been all this time without assuring you of my tenderness and begging you for that you have always shown me. I cannot help telling you about my son, who is very well; he would be rather pretty if he did not have an eruption, but I am in hopes when we get to Fontainebleau he will have no more of it. April 25, 1705. I cannot, my dear grandmother, be longer without comforting myself with you in the sorrow that has befallen me [death of her son]. I am convinced that you have felt it, for I know the affection you have for me. If we did not take all the sorrows of this life from God, I do not know what would become of us. I think He wants to draw me to Him, by overwhelming me with every sort of grief. My health suffers greatly, but that is the least of my troubles.