you tell me," returned I; "do pray tell, and I will
love you with all my heart."

"It cannot be."

"And why not? This unfortunate person has been long dead without leaving
any posterity."

"Are you quite sure of that?" inquired the king, in a serious tone.

"But what signifies," said I, "whether he be dead or alive? I entreat
of you to bestow upon me this proof of your confidence. Who of all those
who have spoken of him have told the truth?"

"Nobody; but Voltaire has approached it more nearly than any one else."

After this partial confession the king implored of me to change the
conversation, which I could easily perceive was extremely disagreeable
to him. Nevertheless, it seemed to me quite clear, that this celebrated
person belonged to the royal family, but by what title I could not
devise. It was in vain that I afterwards revived the subject; not even
during the most tender confidences could I obtain the information I
desired. Possibly had I lived with him some years more I might have
succeeded in drawing from him all he knew respecting the object of my
curiosity. Old men, like children, can conceal nothing from those they
love, and who have obtained over them an influence they willingly submit
to.

Before I proceed to more important events, I would fain speak of persons
with whom I lived before my elevation. My godfather, M. Billard du
Monceau, was still living, as well as madame Lagarde, with whom I had
resided as companion. My interview with the former is well known; and
the authors of "Anecdotes of My Life," published thirteen years
since, have strictly adhered to the truth, with the exception of some
vulgarisms they have put into the mouth of that excellent man which he
never uttered.

As to madame Lagarde, she was strangely surprised to see me arrive at
her house; and the evident embarrassment my presence occasioned her was
a sufficient revenge on my part for the many unkind things she had said
and done respecting me. I would not prolong her uncomfortable situation,
but studied to conduct myself with the same unaffected simplicity of
former days. I talked over the past, inquired after her family, and
offered my best services and protection without malice for what was
gone by, and with perfect sincerity for the future. But spite of all
my endeavors to spare her feelings, it was evident that rage and
humiliation at the advantage my altered fortunes gave me over her,
struggled within her, and the conf