he Prince of Wales' letter and the sixty
guineas. The fictitious d'Isten, perceiving that the secretary had a
gold watch, and a purse containing fifty other guineas, detained him to
supper; but no sooner had the secretary drank some wine than he was
seized with an invincible desire to go to sleep. "My good friend," said
his host, "your journey has fatigued you; you had better undress and lie
down on my bed for a short time." The secretary, who could not keep his
eyes open, consented; and no sooner had he lain down than he was asleep.
Some time after, his servant came to look for him, and awoke him; the
bottles were still standing before the bed, but the poor secretary's
pockets were emptied, and the sharper who had personated M. d'Isten had
disappeared with their valuable contents.

The Princesse Maubuisson was astonishingly pleasant and amiable. I was
always delighted to visit her, and never felt myself tired in her
society. I soon found myself in much greater favour than any other of
her nieces, because I could converse with her about almost everybody she
had known in the whole course of her life, which the others could not.
She used frequently to talk German with me, which she knew very well; and
she told me all her adventures. I asked her how she could accustom
herself to the monastic life. She laughed and said, "I never speak to
the nuns but to give orders." She had a deaf nun with her in her own
chamber, that she might not feel any desire to speak. She told me that
she had always been fond of a country life, and that she still could
fancy herself a country girl. "But," I asked her, "how do you like
getting up and going to church in the middle of the night?" She replied
that she did as the painters do, who increase the splendour of their
light by the introduction of deep shadows. She had in general the
faculty of giving to all things a turn which deprived them of their
absurdity.

I have often heard M. Bernstorff spoken of by a person who was formerly
very agreeable to him; I mean the Duchess of Mecklenbourg, the Duc de
Luxembourg's sister. She praised his talents very highly, and assured me
that it was she who gave him to the Duke George William.

The wife of the Marechal de Villars is running after the Comte de
Toulouse. My son is also in her good graces, and is not a whit more
discreet. Marechal de Villars came one day to see me; and, as he
pretends to understand medals, he asked to see mine. Baudelot, who is