, this might have been serious." He went to
seek some drug, and, on his return, set about inundating the King with
perfumed water. I forget the name of the medicine he made him take, but
the effect was wonderful. I believe it was the drops of General Lamotte.
I called up one of the girls of the wardrobe to make tea, as if for
myself. The King took three cups, put on his robe de chambre and his
stockings, and went to his own room, leaning upon the Doctor. What a
sight it was to see us all three half naked! Madame put on a robe as
soon as possible, and I did the same, and the King changed his clothes
behind the curtains, which were very decently closed. He afterwards
spoke of this short attack, and expressed his sense of the attentions
shown him. An hour after, I felt the greatest possible terror in
thinking that the King might have died in our hands. Happily, he quickly
recovered himself, and none of the domestics perceived what had taken
place. I merely told the girl of the wardrobe to put everything to
rights, and she thought it was Madame who had been indisposed. The King,
the next morning, gave secretly to Quesnay a little note for Madame, in
which he said, 'Ma chere amie' must have had a great fright, but let her
reassure herself--I am now well, which the Doctor will certify to you.
From that moment the King became accustomed to me, and, touched by the
interest I had shown for him, he often gave me one of his peculiarly
gracious glances, and made me little presents, and, on every New Year's
Day, sent me porcelain to the amount of twenty louis d'or. He told
Madame that he looked upon me in the apartment as a picture or statue,
and never put any constraint upon himself on account of my presence.
Doctor Quesnay received a pension of a thousand crowns for his attention
and silence, and the promise of a place for his son. The King gave me an
order upon the Treasury for four thousand francs, and Madame had
presented to her a very handsome chiming-clock and the King's portrait in
a snuffbox.

The King was habitually melancholy, and liked everything which recalled
the idea of death, in spite of the strongest fears of it. Of this, the
following is an instance: Madame de Pompadour was on her way to Crecy,
when one of the King's grooms made a sign to her coachman to stop, and
told him that the King's carriage had broken down, and that, knowing her
to be at no great distance, His Majesty had sent him forward to beg her
to wait