The widowed duchess received the sad news with comparative indifference, but, according to Madame de Motteville, “counterfeited grief, after the manner of ladies who love themselves too well to care for any one else.” She had not, indeed, waited for the death of her husband to establish tender relations with the fascinating Duc de Nemours, and was already aspiring to resume over the heart of Condé the empire which she had for a brief while exercised in former years.[198] Hitherto, the prince would appear to have given the lady but scant encouragement, for, though very far from indifferent to her charms, Châtillon was one of his closest friends, and the idea of engaging in a _liaison_ with his wife was repugnant to his sense of honour. But, with the death of the duke, his scruples vanished, and not long afterwards Isabelle became his mistress, without, however, renouncing the Duc de Nemours, her relations with whom she was, of course, very careful to conceal from her titular lover. On 12 March, 1649, the Peace of Rueil put an end to the war, though it was not until 18 August that the Court returned to Paris, after an absence of seven and a half months. To the Parliamentary Fronde succeeded, at a short interval, the Fronde of the Princes, more difficult to characterize, since it was composed of little save disappointed ambitions and interested calculations, but also more difficult to conquer. The good understanding between _Monsieur le Prince_ and Mazarin had been merely of a temporary nature, called into being by the danger to which the royal authority had found itself exposed, and it did not long survive the restoration of order. Condé’s natural pride and arrogance had been enormously increased by the events of the last few months, and he believed his support absolutely indispensable to the Government. The Regent and her Minister were willing to go to great lengths to secure a continuance of it, but no ordinary concessions were likely to satisfy a man who regarded himself as the saviour of the Crown, and believed that he held its fate in the hollow of his hand, and whose jealous and suspicious mind, skilfully played upon by his sister, seemed to see in every action of Mazarin a carefully calculated move to strengthen the Cardinal’s position or to diminish his own prestige. His increasing pretensions rendered him more of a rebel than the Frondeurs themselves; his arrogance disgusted every one. He exacted from Mazarin a written agreement whereby he undertook not to make any appointment of importance in Church or State unless he had first been consulted, or to arrange any marriage for his nephews and nieces without his consent. “In his ordinary life he had such mocking airs that no one was able to endure him. However high their rank, people were obliged to wait an interminable time in _Monsieur le Prince’s_ ante-chamber. In the visits which were paid him he manifested so disdainful an ennui, that