nephretic colic," but the fault was certainly not all on her side. On her going to visit her sick mother in 1763, her husband forbade her return home, and procured a lettre de cachet for her detention in a Limoges convent. The Marquis died the day before the capture of the Bastille. The widow lived in poverty in Paris; her son refused to see her, and when he was dying she vainly waited six hours outside for permission to see him, for her daughter, doubtless by Mirabeau's orders, refused her admission. She threatened to dispute his will, which left her nothing, but as he died in debt his legacies were nugatory. The poor woman, poor in two senses, was a captive about a year, and died shortly after her release, 18th November 1794, at the age of sixty-nine.
No prisoner at the convent has left any narrative. The nuns were required to assume secular dress, and were not allowed religious services, but they were permitted to remain in their cells and to walk in the vineyard. The tombs were profaned for the sake of the lead, and church plate and ornaments were plundered. The velvet draperies, bearing the royal arms embroidered in gold, from the royal pew in Whitehall chapel, presented to the convent on James II.'s death, had disappeared. In March 1795 the gaoler and guards were withdrawn, and the school was reopened, but in 1799 the sale of all the British establishments was ordered. The nuns
