ing her
the nickname of Madame Etiquette; and, no doubt, in her childish
playfulness, to utter many a speech and do many an act whose principle
object was to excite the astonishment or provoke the frowns of the too
prim lady of honor.

There can be no doubt that, though she often pushed her strictness too
far, Madame de Noailles to some extent had reason on her side; and that a
certain degree of ceremony and stately reserve is indispensable in court
life. It is a penalty which those born in the purple must pay for their
dignity, that they can have no friend on a perfect equality with
themselves; and those who in different ages and countries have tried to
emancipate themselves from this law of their rank have not generally won
even the respect of those to whom they have condescended, and still less
the approbation of the outer world, whose members have perhaps a secret
dislike to see those whom they regard as their own equals lifted above
them by the familiarity of princes.

This, however, was a matter of comparatively slight importance. An excess
of condescension is at the worst a venial and an amiable error; but even
at the early period plots were being contrived against the young princess,
which, if successful, would have been wholly destructive of her happiness,
and which, though she was fully aware of them, she had not means by
herself to disconcert or defeat. They were the more formidable because
they were partly political, embracing a scheme for the removal of a
minister, and consequently conciliated more supporters and insured greater
perseverance than if they had merely aimed at securing a preponderance of
court favor for the plotters. Like all the other mistresses who had
successfully reigned in the French courts, Madame du Barri had a party of
adherents who hoped to rise by her patronage. The Duc de Choiseul himself
had owed his promotion to her predecessor, Madame de Pompadour, and those
who hoped to supplant him saw in a similar influence the best prospect of
attaining their end. One of the least respectable of the French nobles was
the Duc d'Aiguillon. As Governor of Brittany, he had behaved with
notorious cowardice in the Seven Years' War. He had since been, if
possible, still more dishonored by charges of oppression, peculation, and
subornation, on which the authorities of the province had prosecuted him,
and which the Parisian Parliament had pronounced to be established. But no
kind of infamy was a barr