a slabs beautifully painted. When I opened it,
a glass was lifted which reflected my countenance. I sat down and wrote
the following note to the duc d'Aiguillon:--

"You must be content. I want your assistance, I really want it. The
moment has come for deserving all my confidence. Will you have it at all
risks and perils? Reflect well before you undertake this: if you accept,
come to-day at five o'clock precisely, neither later nor sooner."

A little while afterwards the following reply was brought.

"One thing displeases me in your letter which else enchants me. You
appear to doubt my obedience. Am I not your slave? And when you say to
me _go_, will I not _go_? Rely on me as on yourself; even more: for your
vivacity may lead you into error, and I shall preserve my reason. Yes,
madame, I will, when near you, preserve my reason when your interests
are at stake. At the fixed hour I shall have the honor to lay at your
feet my respectful homage and boundless devotion."

It was impossible to express a real sentiment with more delicacy. I
was charmed at it, no longer doubting that the duke would consider my
interests as his own. I awaited the hour of five with impatience,
when my good fortune brought the prince de Soubise. After the first
compliments,

"Well, madame la comtesse, when is your presentation to take place?"

"I do not know, monsieur le marechal; there are obstacles in the way.
I fear that they who wish to injure me abuse their influence with the
king."

"I see that his majesty hesitates, altho' he is desirous of giving you
station. He must be stimulated to know that he is master; and that if he
shows any wavering in this particular, it will be made use of to govern
him hereafter."

Heartily did I applaud the language of M. de Soubise: I did not suspect
that the dear prince had another motive behind. At the end of the
interview he said,

"Madame, you would not have been as you now are had you been more
conciliatory towards me. I know the king, and know how to manage him. I
flatter myself that you would have been now presented had you deigned to
hear my advice."

"Did I reject it? Was I wrong in declining to have mademoiselle Guimard
as ambassadress? Were you assured of her silence? Might she not have
compromised us?"

"You are right; I did as one would have done at your age, and you have
done as I should do at mine; but there is always time to amend."

"Certainly, prince."

"You accept my advice,