“The next day, before she became quite speechless, Madame de Montagu and my daughters, fearing that my presence might prevent her from praying at her ease, asked me to leave them. My first impulse was to refuse their request, however tenderly and timidly made; I had a passionate desire to occupy her thoughts exclusively. However, I repressed my feelings, and gave up my place to her sister. I was scarcely gone when she called me back. So soon as I got nearer, she again took my hand in hers, saying, ‘_Je suis toute à vous_.’ These were her last words. “It has been said that she had often lectured me. That was not her way; she frequently expressed, in the course of her delirium, the idea that she would go to heaven. She told me several times, ‘This life is short and full of troubles; let us unite in God and depart together for eternity.’ She wished us all, and me in particular, the peace of the Lord. Such is the manner in which that dear angel expressed herself during her illness, as well as in the will she had made a few years ago, and which is a model of refinement, of elevation of mind, and of eloquence from the heart. “It seems as if, by dwelling on these details, I was trying to defer that last period, when, on seeing the doctor giving up all hopes of her recovery, and only thinking of prolonging life, we felt that for her there was to be no to-morrow. Until then we had only appeared before her two or three at a time; but that day, as she seemed to be seeking for us, we saw no harm in admitting all the members of the family, who seated themselves in a semi-circle before her, so that she could see every one. ‘What a pleasant sight!’ she said, while looking on us with complacency. “She called for her daughters in turn, and had a charming word for each of them. She gave them each her blessing. I feel confident that she was happy during that morning. And how could the last moments be otherwise than calm for her whose piety, far from being troubled by terrors and scruples, never ceased to be all the time of her illness, before and during her delirium, all love and gratitude for the blessings, to use her own words, which God had bestowed and was still bestowing on her? for her who, notwithstanding the state of her brain, never lost a single joy which a heart such as hers could feel? Her delirium even became less confused. Instead of asking Madame de Montagu how my mother was, she told her, ‘I look upon you as having succeeded to her.’ “No doubt she felt that the last moment was approaching, when, after having told me in so touching a manner: ‘Have you been happy with me? Are you kind enough to love me? Well, then, give me your blessing.’ and when I answered: ‘You love me also, you will give me your blessing’; she gave me hers for the first and last time in a solemn and loving manner. Then her six children, each in turn, kissed her hand and face. She looked at them with inexpressible tenderness.