said, "_Is that a friend?_"
The Abbe de Bernis said, "You must not judge him hastily, in
such a moment as this." I returned into the drawing-room about
an hour after, when the Keeper of the Seals entered. He passed
me, with his usual cold and severe look. "How is Madame de
Pompadour?" said he. "Alas!" replied I, "as you may imagine!"
He passed on to her closet. Everybody retired, and he remained
for half an hour. The Abbe returned and Madame rang. I went into
her room, the Abbe following me. She was in tears. "I must go, my
dear Abbe," said she. I made her take some orange-flower water,
in a silver goblet, for her teeth chattered. She then told me to
call her equerry. He came in, and she calmly gave him her orders,
to have everything prepared at her hotel, in Paris; to tell all
her people to get ready to go; and to desire her coachman not
to be out of the way. She then shut herself up, to confer with
the Abbe de Bernis, who left her, to go to the Council. Her door
was then shut, except to the ladies with whom she was particularly
intimate, M. de Soubise, M. de Gontaut, the Ministers, and some
others. Several ladies, in the greatest distress, came to talk
to me in my room: they compared the conduct of M. de Machault
with that of M. de Richelieu, at Metz. Madame had related to
them the circumstances extremely to the honour of the Duke, and,
by contrast, the severest satire on the Keeper of the Seals.
"He thinks, or pretends to think," said she, "that the priests
will be clamorous for my dismissal; but Quesnay and all the
physicians declare that there is not the slightest danger." Madame
having sent for me, I saw the Marechale de Mirepoix coming in.
While she was at the door, she cried out, "What are all those
trunks, Madame? Your people tell me you are going." "Alas! my
dear friend, such is our Master's desire, as M. de Machault tells
me." "And what does he advise?" said the Marechale. "That I should
go without delay." During this conversation, I was undressing
Madame, who wished to be at her ease on her chaise-longue. "Your
Keeper of the Seals wants to get the power into his own hands,
and betrays you; he who quits the field loses it." I went out. M.
de Soubise entered, then the Abbe and M. de Marigny. The latter,
who was very kind to me, came into my room an hour afterwards.
I was alone. "She will remain," said he; "but, hush!--she will
make an appearance of going, in order not to set her enemies
at work. It is the li