You see that
the duc de Fronsac has only one child, an infant not many days
old. I also have but one, and these two feeble branches seem
but little calculated to falsify the prediction. Judge, my dear
countess, how great must be my paternal anxiety!"
This relation on the part of the duc d'Aiguillon was but ill
calculated to restore my drooping spirits, and although I had
no reason for concluding that the astrologer had spoken
prophetically to the grand cardinal, I was not the less inclined
to believe, with increased confidence, the predictions uttered
respecting myself by my inexplicable visitor of the morning. My
ever kind friend, the duchesse d'Aiguillon, was not long ere she
too made her appearance, with the view, and in the hope of
consoling me. I could not resist her earnest endeavours to rouse
me from my grief, and a grateful sense of her goodness obliged
me to deck my features with at least the semblance of cheerfulness.
Every hour fresh accounts of the king's health were brought me,
of a most encouraging nature; by these bulletins one might naturally
suppose him rapidly recovering, and we all began to smile at our
folly in having been so soon alarmed; in fact, my spirits rose in
proportion as those about me appeared full of fresh confidence,
and the mysterious visit of my evil genius gradually faded from
my recollection.
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