, that the Abbe de Bernis had been a favoured lover of
hers. The said Abbe was rather a coxcomb; he had a handsome face, and
wrote poetry. Madame de Pompadour was the theme of his gallant verses.
He sometimes received the compliments of his friends upon his success
with a smile which left some room for conjecture, although he denied the
thing in words. It was, for some time, reported at Court that she was in
love with the Prince de Beauvau: he is a man distinguished for his
gallantries, his air of rank and fashion, and his high play; he is
brother to the little Marechale: for all these reasons, Madame is very
civil to him, but there is nothing marked in her behaviour. She knows,
besides, that he is in love with a very agreeable woman.

Now that I am on the subject of lovers, I cannot avoid speaking of M. de
Choiseul. Madame likes him better than any of those I have just
mentioned, but he is not her lover. A lady, whom I know perfectly well,
but whom I do not chose to denounce to Madame, invented a story about
them, which was utterly false. She said, as I have good reason to
believe, that one day, hearing the King coming, I ran to Madame's closet
door; that I coughed in a particular manner; and that the King having,
happily, stopped a moment to talk to some ladies, there was time to
adjust matters, so that Madame came out of the closet with me and M. de
Choiseul, as if we had been all three sitting together. It is very true
that I went in to carry something to Madame, without knowing that the
King was come, and that she came out of the closet with M. de Choiseul,
who had a paper in his hand, and that I followed her a few minutes after.
The King asked M. de Choiseul what that paper was which he had in his
hand. He replied that it contained the remonstrance from the Parliament.

Three or four ladies witnessed what I now relate, and as, with the
exception of one, they were all excellent women, and greatly attached to
Madame, my suspicions could fall on none but the one in question, whom I
will not name, because her brother has always treated me with great
kindness. Madame de Pompadour had a lively imagination and great
sensibility, but nothing could exceed the coldness of her temperament. It
would, besides, have been extremely difficult for her, surrounded as she
was, to keep up an intercourse of that kind with any man. It is true
that this difficulty would have been diminished in the case of an
all-powerful Mini