Conversation of the marechale de Mirepoix with the comtesse du Barry on court friendship--Intrigues of madame de Bearn--Preconcerted meeting with madame de Flaracourt---Rage of madame de Bearn-- Portrait and conversation of madame de Flaracourt with the comtesse du Barry--Insult from the princesse de Guemenee--Her banishment--Explanation of the king and the duc de Choiseul relative to madame du Barry--The comtesse d'Egmont
However giddy I was I did not partake in the excessive gaiety of madame de Mirepoix. I was pained to see how little reliance could be placed on the sensibility of the king, as well as how far I could esteem the consideration of the marechale for madame de Pompadour, from whom she had experienced so many marks of friendship. This courtier baseness appeared to me so villainous, that I could not entirely conceal how I was affected with displeasure. Madame de Mirepoix saw it, and, looking at me attentively, said,
"Do you feel any desire to become pathetical in the country we live in? I warn you that it will be at your own expense. We must learn to content ourselves here with appearances, and examine nothing thoroughly."
"'There is then no reality?" said I to her.
"Yes," she answered me, "but only two things, power and money: the rest is 'leather and prunella' (contes bleus): no person has time to love sincerely; it is hatred only that takes deep root and never dies. To hope to give birth to a real passion, an Orestean and Pyladean friendship, is a dream from which you must be awakened."
'Then you do not love me?"
"You ask me a very awkward question, my darling, I can tell you. I do love you, and very much, too: I have proved it by ranging myself on your side, and by declaring, with the utmost frankness, that I would rather see you in the situation in which you are, than any other woman of the court. But there is a long space between this and heroical friendship: I should deceive you if I were to affirm the contrary, and there would be no common sense in giving faith to my words. Every one has too much business, too much intrigue, too many quarrels on hand, to have any leisure to think of others: every one lives for himself alone. Mesdames de Guemenee and de Grammont appear very intimate: that is easily explained, they unite against a common enemy. But were your station left vacant, no sooner would the king have thrown the apple to one of them, but the other would detest her instantly."
Contrary to custom I made no reply: I was absorbed in painful reflections to which this conversation had given rise. The marechale perceived it, and said,
"We should fall into philosophy if we probed this subject too deeply. Let us think no more of this: besides, I have a new defection to tell you of. Madame de Flaracourt told me yesterday that she much regretted having misunderstood you, and that you were worth more than all those who persecute you. She appeared to me disposed to ally herself to you for the least encouragement which you might be induced to hold out to her."
"You know very well," I replied, "that I am willing to adopt your advice. The house of Flaracourt is not to be despised, and I ask no better than to be on amicable terms with the lady."
"Well, then, come this morning and walk in the grove nearest the pavilion, I shall be there with madame de Flaracourt: we will meet by chance, compliments will follow, and the alliance will be formed."
The marechale and I had scarcely separated when madame de Bearn was announced. This lady besieged me night and day. Gifted with a subtle and penetrating spirit--that talent which procures advancement at court, she saw, with pain, that I sought to attract other females about me: she would fain have remained my only friend, that she might, unopposed, influence me in all I did. She saw, therefore, the appearance of madame de Mirepoix in my drawing-room with uneasiness: her bad humor was sufficiently apparent to attract the notice of the marechale, who laughed at it: her social position as a titled woman, and the king's friendship, giving her confidence that her credit would always exceed that of my godmother.
Madame de Bearn was compelled to submit to the ascendancy of the marechale, but yet did not the less relax in her efforts to keep from me all other female society, she hoped that at last the king would distinguish her, and call her into his intimacy as my friend; she was not more fond of the comtesse d'Aloigny, altho' the nullity of this lady need not have alarmed her much. For me, I began to resent the irksomeness of having incessantly at my side a person who manifested too openly her desire to compel me to submit to her wishes, and I waited, to secure my freedom, only until the circle of females I could admit to my society should be extended.
Such were our reciprocal feelings during our stay at Marly. The madame de Bearn watched me with more care than at Versailles, fearing, no doubt, that the freedom of the country might facilitate connections prejudicial to her interests. Little did she anticipate on this day the stroke which was in preparation for her. I asked her spitefully to take a turn with me into the park, and I took care not to announce the meeting which we had arranged.
Behold us then walking this way and that, quite by chance, without however going any distance from the pavilion. Madame de Bearn, not liking the vicinity of the chateau, was desirous to go into the wood. I declined this under vain excuses, when suddenly madame de Mirepoix and madame de Flaracourt appeared at the end of a very short walk.
"Let us turn this way," said the countess to me, "here comes one of our enemies, whom it would be as well to avoid."
"Why turn away?" I replied; "she is alone, we are two, and then the marechale de Mirepoix is not opposed to us."
Saying this, I advanced towards them. Madame de Flaracourt appeared very gracious: I replied to her advances with due politeness, and instead of separating, we continued to walk about together. Madame de Bearn saw clearly that chance was not the sole cause of this meeting: she dissembled as well as she could. I afterwards learnt that she owed me a spite, particularly for the mystery which I had made of this occurrence. The marked silence, and the sullen air she assumed during this interview, and which her sense and knowledge of the world should have prevented her from manifesting, proved to me, on this occasion, as on many other others, that temper cannot always be conquered, and that at times it will burst forth in spite of the experience and caution of the courtier.
I did not give myself much trouble on this subject: I had well recompensed the good offices of the countess: I had ample proof that in serving me she had acted on the impulse of self-interest: we were quits, I thought, and I saw no reason why I should remain isolated just to serve her pleasure.
When we returned to my apartments I saw plainly, by her mutterings, her sighs, and the shrugging of her shoulders, that she was deeply irritated at what had just taken place. She was desirous of provoking an explanation, but as that could only tend to her disadvantage, she contented herself with leaving me earlier than her usual want, without saying anything disagreeable. Her custom was not to leave me alone, and her abrupt departure confirmed me in the idea I had imbibed, that this sort of comedy had much thwarted her.
In the course of the same day I received a visit from the comtesse de Flaracourt. This lady, whose sparkling eyes shone with an air of mischief, presented herself to me with an appearance of openness and confidence which completely cloaked the malignity and treachery of her character. She threw her arms round my neck with as much grace as tenderness, and taking my hand, as if to arrest my attention, said:
"I ought, madame, to explain to you the delay that I have made before I introduce myself to you, as well as the promptitude of this my first visit. I was prejudiced against you, and had formed a false estimate of you. My liaison with mesdames d'Egmont, de Brionne, and de Grammont naturally placed me in the rank opposed to you: so much for what has passed. But I have seen you: I have studied you at a distance, as well as close, and I have recognised, without difficulty, the injustice of your enemies. I have been enraged with myself for having been deceived regarding you: I wish to repair my wrongs. Enlightened by the opinion of the marechale de Mirepoix, I have not hesitated to approach you under her auspices, and our first meeting has so happily furnished me with an opportunity of appreciating you, that I would not delay any longer the pleasure of making you a personal avowal of my past sentiments, and of those with which you now inspire me."
The tone in which madame de Flaracourt uttered these words was so gracious and so persuasive, that I could not resist the pleasure of embracing her. She returned my kiss with the same eagerness, and would not listen to my thanks.
"All is explained between us," she continued, "let us forget the past, and let us do as if meeting for the first time to-day; we henceforward date this as the first of our acquaintance."
"The affability with which you have presented yourself to me," I replied, "does not permit me to believe that I have only known you from this morning; I am in an illusion which will only allow me to look on our recent alliance as an ancient friendship."
After having exchanged some conversation of the same tenor, we talked of my situation as regarded the other females of the court.
"They hate you for two reasons," said the countess: "in the first place, because you have made a conquest which all the world envies you; secondly because you are not one of us. There is not one family who can lean on you in virtue of the rights of blood, or alliances which stand instead of it. You have superseded a woman who more than any other could have a claim to your good fortune: she is sister to the prime minister, who has in her train, like Lucifer, more than a third part of heaven,