that of a clever man. His name
was Renard; he was scarcely known beyond the Marais. Madame often
appeared suffocated, and sighed continually. One day, under pretence of
presenting a petition to M. de Choiseul, as he was going out, I said, in
a low voice, that I wished to see him a few minutes on an affair of
importance to my mistress. He told me to come as soon as I pleased, and
that I should be admitted. I told him that Madame was extremely
depressed; that she gave way to distressing thoughts, which she would not
communicate; that she, one day, said to me, "The fortune-teller told me I
should have time to prepare myself; I believe it, for I shall be worn to
death by melancholy." M. de Choiseul appeared much affected; he praised
my zeal, and said that he had already perceived some indications of what
I told him; that he would not mention my name, but would try to draw from
her an explanation. I don't know what he said to her; but, from that
time, she was much more calm. One day, but long afterwards, Madame said
to M. de Gontaut, "I am generally thought to have great influence, but if
it were not for M. de Choiseul, I should not be able to obtain a Cross of
St. Louis."

The King and Madame de Pompadour had a very high opinion of Madame de
Choiseul. Madame said, "She always says the right thing in the right
place." Madame de Grammont was not so agreeable to them; and I think
that this was to be attributed, in part, to the sound of her voice, and
to her blunt manner of speaking; for she was said to be a woman of great
sense, and devotedly attached to the King and Madame de Pompadour. Some
people pretended that she tried to captivate the King, and to supplant
Madame: nothing could be more false, or more ridiculously improbable.
Madame saw a great deal of these two ladies, who were extremely attentive
to her. She one day remarked to the Duc d'Ayen,--[Afterwards Marechal de
Noaines.] that M. de Choiseul was very fond of his sisters. "I know it,
Madame," said he, "and many sisters are the better for that."--"What do
you mean?" said she. "Why," said he, "as the Duc de Choiseul loves his
sister, it is thought fashionable to do the same; and I know silly girls,
whose brothers formerly cared nothing about them, who are now most
tenderly beloved. No sooner does their little finger ache, than their
brothers are running about to fetch physicians from all corners of Paris.
They flatter themselves that somebody will say