It may be imagined what use M. du Maine contrived to make of the public folly, the rumours of the Paris cafes, the feeling of the salon of Marly, that of the Parliament, the reports that arrived from the provinces and foreign countries.  In a short time so overpowered was M. d’Orleans by the feeling against him everywhere exhibited, that acting upon very ill-judged advice he spoke to the King upon the subject, and begged to be allowed to surrender himself as a prisoner at the Bastille, until his character was cleared from stain.

I was terribly annoyed when I heard that M. d’Orleans had taken this step, which could not possibly lead to good.  I had quite another sort of scheme in my head which I should have proposed to him had I known of his resolve.  Fortunately, however, the King was persuaded not to grant M. d’Orleans’ request, out of which therefore nothing came.  The Duke meanwhile lived more abandoned by everybody than ever; if in the salon he approached a group of courtiers, each, without the least hesitation, turned to the right or to the left and went elsewhere, so that it was impossible for him to accost anybody except by surprise, and if he did so, he was left alone directly after with the most marked indecency.  In a word, I was the only person, I say distinctly, the only person, who spoke to M. d’Orleans as before.  Whether in his own house or in the palace I conversed with him, seated myself by his side in a corner of the salon, where assuredly we had no third person to fear, and walked with him in the gardens under the very windows of the King and of Madame de Maintenon.

Nevertheless, all my friends warned me that if I pursued this conduct so opposite to that in vogue, I should assuredly fall into disgrace.  I held firm.  I thought that when we did not believe our friends guilty we ought not to desert them, but, on the contrary, to draw closer to them, as by honour bound, give them the consolation due from us, and show thus to the world our hatred for calumny.  My friends insisted; gave me to understand that the King disapproved my conduct, that Madame de Maintenon was annoyed at it:  they forgot nothing to awaken my fears.  But I was insensible to all they said to me, and did not omit seeing M. d’Orleans a single day; often stopping with him two and three hours at a time.

A few weeks had passed over thus, when one morning M. de Beauvilliers called upon me, and urged me to plead business, and at once withdraw to La Ferme; intimating that if I did not do so of my own accord, I should be compelled by an order from the King.  He never explained himself more fully, but I have always remained persuaded that the King or Madame de Maintenon had sent him to me, and had told him that I should be banished if I did not banish myself.  Neither my absence nor my departure made any stir; nobody suspected anything.  I was carefully informed, without knowing by whom, when my exile was likely to end:  and I returned, after a month or five weeks, straight to the Court, where I kept up the same intimacy with M. d’Orleans as before.