“My much esteemed friend,—I promised you upon your departure to inform you of all that transpired, and although the task is a mournful one, I will do my best to acquit myself with zeal and sincerity, and each evening I will write you an exact detail of all that has occurred during the day. The king remains much as you left him, and you must know that already his medical attendants differ in their opinion respecting him—Lemonnier utterly despairing of his recovery, while Bordeu is most sanguine that he shall be enabled to restore him to health. La MartiniÈre persists in his assertion that the attention of the king should be immediately directed to his spiritual concerns. The archbishop of Paris remains until called for in the ante-chamber, and the princesses never leave the bedside of their august parent.

“The king spoke with me concerning you for some time this morning, and I can assure you, you are the first object in his thoughts; he has begged of me never to forsake you, and has deigned to repose in me the enviable post of your future protector. ‘I bequeath my beloved friend to your fidelity,’ added the suffering prince. I took advantage of this opportunity to remark that I looked upon your quitting Versailles as too precipitate and premature a step. ‘No, no,’ replied the king, ‘I have acted for the best; I have once been deceived as to my condition, and I would willingly prevent being again taken by surprise. Tell my beloved and excellent countess how truly I love her’; and hearing the prince de Soubise mention his design of supping at Ruel, he charged him to embrace you for him.

“The dauphin still remains secluded in his apartment, but I know that he keeps up a regular correspondence with madame Victoire, whose letters, after being immersed in vinegar, are carried to the comte de Muy, who fumigates them previously to allowing them to reach the hands of the dauphin.

“I am, etc., etc.

“VERSAILLES, May 5, 1774, nine o’clock, evening.”

Upon awaking the following morning I again received news of the king, who was stated to have passed a good night, and even La MartiniÈre seemed inclined to hope. As yet, then, there were no safe grounds for abandoning me, and about two o’clock in the afternoon I was favoured with a visit from madame de Mirepoix, who, running up to me, exclaimed with her usual vivacity,

“Oh, my dear creature, how I longed to see you!” and then leading me into another chamber, she added,

“Do you know I quite missed you? As I wrote you, my time hung heavily on my hands. What in the world will become of me if I am compelled to resign the delightful hours granted to the envied few who are permitted the entrÉe to the petits appartements? For you see, my dear, the dauphiness will be far from bestowing that honour upon me. I am too old to form one of her coterie, and I shall be laid aside like the rest of the antiquities of the chÂteau. By the way,” continued the voluble marÉchale, “there is already a great cabal in the chÂteau respecting the formation of a new ministry, in which, besides desiring lucrative posts for themselves, all are anxious to introduce their private friends; in the midst of so many absorbing interests you appear to be already forgotten, which, by the way, is no bad thing for you. Your best plan is to remain perfectly tranquil.” Then rapidly passing to her most prevailing idea, this excellent friend proceeded to inquire what the king had bestowed on me as a parting present, “for,” said she, “he would not certainly permit you to leave Versailles empty-handed.”

“It is a point,” replied I, “that neither his majesty nor myself once thought of.”

“Then such an omission proves him a vile egotist, and you a prodigious simpleton,” answered she; “and were I in your place, I would commission the duc d’Aiguillon to make a direct demand of a future provision for you; you really should see about this, and secure to yourself a noble establishment for yourself and your friends, who ought not to suffer for your overstrained delicacy. Look at the duc de Choiseul, who has kept a regular court at Chanteloup, and never wanted for a train of courtiers at it.”

After this lesson of worldly wisdom, the excellent marÉchale gave me a friendly kiss, returned to her carriage, and I saw her no more during my stay at Ruel.

The evening brought with it a second letter from the duc d’Aiguillon, it was as follows:—

“MADAM,—I hasten to acquaint you with the pleasing information of his majesty being considerably better; his strength appears to have returned, and he himself, in the consciousness of improving health, expressed aloud his regret for having been so hasty in advising your removal from him. He has continually repeated, ‘How weak and selfish of me thus to afflict my dearest countess! would you not advise me, my friend, to request her immediate return?’ Of course, my reply was in the affirmative. His majesty then put the same question to the duc de Richelieu, who answered, that in his opinion it was the best plan he could decide upon. The bulletin signed by the different physicians accompanies this: it leaves me nothing to add but to recommend your bearing with patience this temporary absence from court, to which you will ere long return, more idolized, more sought after, than ever. The duc de la VrilliÈre and the abbÉ Terray present the assurance of their unbounded respect and devotion, etc., etc.”

The duchess, my sister-in-law, and niece shared in joy at such gratifying intelligence, and the ensuing day brought a concourse of visitors to Ruel; indeed, any one might have supposed that fresh swarms of flatterers and courtiers had been created only to swell my numbers of humble and obsequious adorers. I bestowed on each unmeaning guest a smiling welcome, for indeed, my heart was too light and I felt too happy to be enabled to frown even upon those who, when the storm appeared near, had basely deserted me.

It was amusing enough to see with what zeal any person, whom I had previously recommended was assisted by the various ministers in the pursuit of their object; the petit saint found himself all at once at leisure to pay his respects to me. He confirmed all the kind messages sent me by the king through the duc d’Aiguillon. Madame de Mirepoix, who had visited me the preceding evening, reserved her next call for the following day, but a few hours effected a cruel change in my fortune.