al, who already
most heartily disliked him for the familiarity of his tone and manner
towards him. I did all in my power to keep these two enemies from coming
in each other's way, counselled to that by the marechale de Mirepoix,
whose line of politics was of the most pacific nature; besides I had no
inclination for a war carried on in my immediate vicinity, and, for my
own part, so far from wishing to harm any one, I quickly forgave every
affront offered to myself.

But hold! I perceive I am running on quite smoothly in my own praise.
Indeed, my friend, it is well I have taken that office upon myself, for
I fear no one else would undertake it. The most atrocious calumnies have
been invented against me; I have been vilified both in prose and verse;
number of persons on whom I have conferred the greatest obligations,
none has been found with sufficient courage or gratitude to stand
forward and undertake my defence. I do not even except madame de
Mirepoix, whose conduct towards me in former days was marked by the most
studied attention. She came to me one evening, with a face of grief.

"Mercy upon me," cried I, "what ails you?"

"Alas!" replied she, in a piteous tone, "I have just quitted a most
afflicted family; their loss is heavy and irreparable. The marechale de
Luxembourg is well nigh distracted with grief."

"Good heavens!" exclaimed I, "can the duchesse de Lauzun be dead?"

"Alas! no."

"Perhaps poor madame de Boufflers?"

"No, my friend."

"Who then is the object of so much regret? Speak; tell me."

"Madame Brillant."

"A friend of the old marechale 's?"

"More than a friend," replied madame de Mirepoix; "her faithful
companion; her only companion; her only beloved object, since her lovers
and admirers ceased to offer their homage--in a word, her cat."

"Bless me!" cried I, "how you frightened me! But what sort of a cat
could this have been to cause so many tears?"

"Is it possible that you do not know madame Brillant, at least by name?"

"I assure you," said I, "this is the very first time I ever heard her
name."

"Well, if it be so, I will be careful not to repeat such a thing to
madame de Luxembourg; she would never pardon you for it. Listen, my
dear countess," continued madame de Mirepoix; "under the present
circumstances it will be sufficient for you to write your name in her
visiting-book."

I burst into a fit of laughter.

"It is no joke, I promise you," exclaimed the marechale; "the