kind you are;” and he then embraced Madame, who wept with emotion, and, putting her hand upon the King’s heart, said, “This is what I wish to secure.”  The King’s eyes then filled with tears, and I also began weeping, without knowing why.  Afterwards, the King said, “Guimard will call upon you every day, to assist you with his advice, and at the critical moment you will send for him.  You will say that you expect the sponsors, and a moment after you will pretend to have received a letter, stating that they cannot come.  You will, of course, affect to be very much embarrassed; and Guimard will then say that there is nothing for it but to take the first comers.  You will then appoint as godfather and godmother some beggar, or chairman, and the servant girl of the house, and to whom you will give but twelve francs, in order not to attract attention.”  “A louis,” added Madame, “to obviate anything singular, on the other hand.”  “It is you who make me economical, under certain circumstances,” said the King.  “Do you remember the driver of the fiacre?  I wanted to give him a louis, and Duc d’Ayen said, ’You will be known;’ so that I gave him a crown.”  He was going to tell the whole story.  Madame made a sign to him to be silent, which he obeyed, not without considerable reluctance.  She afterwards told me that at the time of the fetes given on occasion of the Dauphin’s marriage, the King came to see her at her mother’s house in a hackney-coach.  The coachman would not go on, and the King would have given him a louis.  “The police will hear of it, if you do,” said the Duc d’Ayen, “and its spies will make inquiries, which will, perhaps, lead to a discovery.”

“Guimard,” continued the King, “will tell you the names of the father and mother; he will be present at the ceremony, and make the usual presents.  It is but fair that you also should receive yours;” and, as he said this, he gave me fifty louis, with that gracious air that he could so well assume upon certain occasions, and which no person in the kingdom had but himself.  I kissed his hand and wept.  “You will take care of the accouchee, will you not?  She is a good creature, who has not invented gunpowder, and I confide her entirely to your direction; my chancellor will tell you the rest,” he said, turning to Madame, and then quitted the room.  “Well, what think you of the part I am playing?” asked Madame.  “It is that of a superior woman, and an excellent friend,” I replied.  “It is his heart I wish to secure,” said she; “and all those young girls who have no education will not run away with it from me.  I should not be equally confident were I to see some fine woman belonging to the Court, or the city, attempt his conquest.”