e Queen's good graces, by virtue of being a capital gossip and
story-teller; and that she had frequent private audiences. Soon she
added intimations that the Queen was far from being really so displeased
with the cardinal, as he supposed. At this the old fool bit instantly,
and showed the keenest emotions of hope and delight. On a further
suggestion, he presently drew up a letter or memoir humbly and
plaintively stating his case, which the countess undertook to put into
the Queen's hands. It was the first of over _two hundred_ notes from
him, notes of abasement, beseeching argument, expostulation, and so on,
all entrusted to Jeanne. She burnt them, I suppose.

In order to make her dupe sure that she told the truth about her access
to the Queen, Jeanne more than once made him go and watch her enter a
side gate into the grounds of the Trianon palace, to which she had
somehow obtained a key; and after waiting he saw her come out again,
sometimes under the escort of a man, who was, she said one Desclos, a
confidential valet of the Queen. This was Villette de Retaux, a "pal"
of Jeanne's and of her husband Lamotte, who had, by the way, become a
low-class gambler and swindler by occupation.

Next Jeanne talked about the Queen's charities; and on one occasion,
told how much the amiable Marie Antoinette longed to expend certain sums
for benevolent purposes if she only had them--but she was out of funds,
and the King was so close about money!

The poor cardinal bit again--"If the Queen would only allow him the
honor to furnish the little amount!"

The countess evidently hadn't thought of that. She reflected--hesitated.
The cardinal urged. She consented--it was not much--and was so kind as
to carry the cash herself. At their next meeting she reported that the
Queen was delighted, telling a very nice story about it. The cardinal
would only be too happy to do so again. And sure enough he did, and
quite a number of times too; contributing in all to the funds of the
countess in this manner, about $25,000.

Well: after a time the cardinal is at Strasburg, when he receives a note
from the countess that brings him back again as quick as post-horses can
carry him. It says that there is something very important, very secret,
very delicate, that the queen wants his help about. He is overflowing
with zeal. What is it? Only let him know--his life, his purse, his soul,
are at the service of his liege lady.

His purse is all that is neede