quit Versailles suddenly; that she would take leave
of the Queen only in writing; that the Comtesse Diane and M. de Vaudreuil
had dictated her letter, and the whole affair was arranged for the purpose
of stimulating the attachment of Marie Antoinette. The next day, when I
went up to the palace, I found the Queen with a letter in her hand, which
she was reading with much emotion; it was the letter from the Comtesse
Jules; the Queen showed it to me. The Countess expressed in it her grief
at leaving a princess who had loaded her with kindness. The narrowness of
her fortune compelled her to do so; but she was much more strongly
impelled by the fear that the Queen's friendship, after having raised up
dangerous enemies against her, might abandon her to their hatred, and to
the regret of having lost the august favour of which she was the object.

This step produced the full effect that had been expected from it. A
young and sensitive queen cannot long bear the idea of contradiction. She
busied herself in settling the Comtesse Jules near her, by making such a
provision for her as should place her beyond anxiety. Her character
suited the Queen; she had merely natural talents, no pedantry, no
affectation of knowledge. She was of middle size; her complexion very
fair, her eyebrows and hair dark brown, her teeth superb, her smile
enchanting, and her whole person graceful. She was seen almost always in
a demi-toilet, remarkable only for neatness and good taste. I do not
think I ever once saw diamonds about her, even at the climax of her
fortune, when she had the rank of Duchess at Court.

I have always believed that her sincere attachment for the Queen, as much
as her love of simplicity, induced her to avoid everything that might
cause her to be thought a wealthy favourite. She had not one of the
failings which usually accompany that position. She loved the persons who
shared the Queen's affections, and was entirely free from jealousy. Marie
Antoinette flattered herself that the Comtesse Jules and the Princesse de
Lamballe would be her especial friends, and that she should possess a
society formed according to her own taste. "I will receive them in my
closet, or at Trianon," said she; "I will enjoy the comforts of private
life, which exist not for us, unless we have the good sense to secure them
for ourselves." The happiness the Queen thought to secure was destined to
turn to vexation. All those courtiers who were not adm