ior of the princesses, who sometimes received me with
pleasure and at others evinced a disposition to annoy me in every
possible way, according as it suited the whims and wishes of those about
them. The following may serve as an instance of their versatility.

The prince de Conde having announced his intention of giving a grand
Fete at Chantilly, the princesses declared they would not be present if
I were there. The prince de Conde, spite of his claims to the character
of a great man, was nevertheless one of the most subtle courtiers;
and as soon as he was informed of the princesses' intention, he came,
without ceremony, to explain the matter to me. This was the first visit
he had honored me with. "Madame," said he, "I had flattered myself you
would have embellished Chantilly with your presence; but the beauties
of the court, too justly alarmed at the idea of being eclipsed by your
dazzling charms, have so successfully manoeuvred, that they have wrought
upon the royal daughters of our august monarch to declare, that the
beauty of their attending nymphs shall not be effaced by yours. You have
too much good sense to see the affair in any but its true light; and the
disappointment your absence will inflict on me would be too cruelly
felt for endurance, did I not seek to pacify my anxious wishes on the
subject, by obtaining your promise to pay me a visit when the king next
honors Chantilly with his presence."

I felt deeply flattered by the invitation. The prince continued to pay
me several elegant and gallant compliments; and I was, upon the whole,
charmed with our interview. However, the king was highly displeased with
his daughters' proceedings. "I have a great inclination," said he,
"to forbid their going to Chantilly at all. Upon my word, if I were to
listen to them, they would fain make of me the same puppet they allow
themselves to become in the hands of the greatest simpleton who will
take the trouble of leading them."

I endeavored to appease his anger, by reminding him, that he could not
expect perfection from his daughters; and that, forced as they were
to hear me continually spoken ill of by my enemies, it was next to
impossible they should be able to prevent themselves from adopting
the opinion of those around them. "And that," said he, "is what I
principally find fault with. What have they to do with aping the tone
of those about them; and what point of their duty teaches them to detest
those whom I love? I