ved gold without many a sigh of regret.

At the house of madame de Valentinois I met the marechale de Luxembourg,
who had recently returned from Chanteloup. There really was something of
infatuation in the general mania which seemed to prevail of treating the
king's sentiments with indifference, and considering his displeasure as
an affair of no consequence. Before the disgrace of the Choiseuls they
were equally the objects of madame de Luxembourg's most bitter hatred,
nor was madame de Grammont backward in returning her animosity; yet,
strange as it may seem, no sooner was the Choiseul party exiled, than
the marechale never rested till she saw her name engraved on the famous
pillar erected to perpetuate the remembrance of all those who had
visited the exiles. She employed their mutual friends to effect a
reconciliation, which was at length effected by letter, and a friendly
embrace exchanged by proxy. These preliminaries over, the marechale came
to the king to make the request to which he had now become accustomed,
but which did not the less amuse him. Of course Louis XV made no
hesitation in granting her the request she solicited. Speaking to me of
the subject, he said, "The _tender_ meeting of madame de Grammont and
the marechal de Luxembourg must indeed be an overpowering sight; I only
trust these two ladies may not drop the mask too soon, and bite each
other's ear while they are embracing."

Madame de Luxembourg, daughter of the duc de Villeroi, had been first
married to the duc de Boufflers, whose brows she helped to adorn with
other ornaments than the ducal coronet; nor whilst her youth and beauty
lasted was she less generous to her second husband: she was generally
considered a most fascinating woman, from the loveliness of her person
and the vivacity of her manners; but behind an ever ready wit, lurked
the most implacable malice and hatred against all who crossed her
path or purpose. As she advanced in life she became more guarded and
circumspect, until at last she set herself up as the arbitress of high
life, and the youthful part of the nobility crowded around her, to hear
the lessons of her past experience. By the number and by the power of
her pupils, she could command both the court and city; her censures were
dreaded, because pronounced in language so strong and severe, as to fill
those who incurred them with no hope of ever shining in public opinion
whilst so formidable a _veto_ was uttered against them;