rang—­a little servant-girl let her in, and then went to wait in the room where the gentlemen were.  Coffee-cups, and a coffee-pot, were set; and I had taken care to place, upon a little buffet, some cakes, and a bottle of Malaga wine, having heard that Madame Bontemps assisted her inspiration with that liquor.  Her face, indeed, sufficiently proclaimed it.  “Is that lady ill?” said she, seeing Madame de Pompadour stretched languidly on the sofa.  I told her that she would soon be better, but that she had kept her room for a week.  She heated the coffee, and prepared the two cups, which she carefully wiped, observing that nothing impure must enter into this operation.  I affected to be very anxious for a glass of wine, in order to give our oracle a pretext for assuaging her thirst, which she did, without, much entreaty.  When she had drunk two or three small glasses (for I had taken care not to have large ones), she poured the coffee into one of the two large cups.  “This is yours,” said she; “and this is your friend’s; let them stand a little.”  She then observed our hands and our faces; after which she drew a looking-glass from her pocket, into which she told us to look, while she looked at the reflections of our faces.  She next took a glass of wine, and immediately threw herself into a fit of enthusiasm, while she inspected my cup, and considered all the lines formed by the dregs of the coffee she had poured out.  She began by saying, “That is well—­prosperity—­but there is a black mark—­distresses.  A man becomes a comforter.  Here, in this corner, are friends, who support you.  Ah! who is he that persecutes them?  But justice triumphs—­after rain, sunshine—­a long journey successful.  There, do you see these little bags!  That is money which has been paid—­to you, of course, I mean.  That is well.  Do you see that arm?” “Yes.”  “That is an arm supporting something:  a woman veiled; I see her; it is you.  All this is clear to me.  I hear, as it were, a voice speaking to me.  You are no longer attacked.  I see it, because the clouds in that direction are passed off (pointing to a clearer spot). But, stay—­I see small lines which branch out from the main spot.  These are sons, daughters, nephews—­that is pretty well." She appeared overpowered with the effort she was making.  At length, she added, "That is all.  You have had good luck first—­misfortune afterward.  You have had a friend, who has exerted himself with success to extricate you from it.  You have had law-suits—­at length fortune has been reconciled to you, and will change no more.” She drank another glass of wine.  “Your health, Madame,” said she to the Marquise, and went through the same ceremonies with the cup.  At length, she broke out, “Neither fair nor foul.  I see there, in the distance, a serene sky; and then all these things that appear to ascend—­all these things are applauses.  Here is a grave man, who stretches out his arms.  Do you see?—­look attentively.”