I was most agreeably mistaken, my dear grandmother, in giving you another grandson [Louis XV., then called Duc d’Anjou]. He is the prettiest child in the world, and I believe he will become a great beauty. Though it is of no consequence after they grow up, one likes better to have a pretty child than an ugly one.
Versailles, June 23, 1710.
There is no talk of anything here, my dear grandmother, but the marriage of the Duc de Berry. Though it will take place without any ceremony (for the times do not allow amusements or great expenses), all the ladies are none the less busy with their finery. This does not render conversation very lively, nor does it give much matter for a letter, for really nothing is talked of but head-dresses, costumes, petticoats, and milliners, and though I am a woman, I never take much pleasure in such discussions. I have a great desire for the wedding to take place and end all discussions about it. They are waiting for the dispensation from Rome. I hope in ten or twelve days to send you a brief account of the event.
Every one tells me that my father will begin the campaign on the first of next month. Judge, therefore, my dear grandmother, of my uneasiness; it is the last stroke. But in whatever state I am, be sure that you have a grand-daughter who loves you tenderly.
July 7, 1710.
M. le Duc de Berry was married yesterday. It was all as magnificent as the season and the times would allow. There was no fête; and that is all I can tell you to-day, being completely wearied out.
November 17, 1710.
I am always afraid, my dear grandmother, to bore you by talking of my children, but since you order me to give you news of them, I obey you with pleasure. I shall begin by telling you that the elder is getting sense enough to know he has a grandmother, and that he loves you. He grows immensely and, consequently, is very thin; he is well-made, but rather ugly. The little one is not the same; he is a fat dumpling and very handsome; he will soon have four teeth, and is in fine health. As soon as he is one year old I will send you his portrait; I dare not have it painted any earlier, for they say it brings ill-luck. I do not believe that; but the case of my eldest makes me prefer to risk nothing.
To her father.