Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans was another kind of person.  She was tall, and in every way majestic; her complexion, her throat, her arms, were admirable; she had a tolerable mouth, with beautiful teeth, somewhat long; and cheeks too broad, and too hanging, which interfered with, but did not spoil, her beauty.  What disfigured her most was her eyebrows, which were, as it were, peeled and red, with very little hair; she had, however, fine eyelashes, and well-set chestnut-coloured hair.  Without being hump-backed or deformed, she had one side larger than the other, and walked awry.  This defect in her figure indicated another, which was more troublesome in society, and which inconvenienced herself.  She had a good deal of intellect, and spoke with much ability.  She said all she wished, and often conveyed her meaning to you without directly expressing it; saying, as it were, what she did not say.  Her utterance was, however, slow and embarrassed, so that unaccustomed ears with difficulty followed her.

Every kind of decency and decorum centred themselves in her, and the most exquisite pride was there upon its throne.  Astonishment will be felt at what I am going to say, and yet, however, nothing is more strictly true:  it is, that at the bottom of her soul she believed that she, bastard of the King, had much honoured M. d’Orleans in marrying him!  M. le Duc d’Orleans often laughed at her pride, called her Madame Lucifer, in speaking to her, and she admitted that the name did not displease her.  She always received his advances with coldness, and a sort of superiority of greatness.  She was a princess to the backbone, at all hours, and in all places.  Yet, at the same time, her timidity was extreme.  The King could have made her feel ill with a single severe look; and Madame de Maintenon could have done likewise, perhaps.  At all events, Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans trembled before her; and upon the most commonplace matters never replied to either him or her without hesitation, fear printed on her face.

M. le Duc and Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans lived an idle, languishing, shameful, indecent, and despised life, abandoned by all the Court.  This, I felt, was one of the first things that must be remedied.  Accordingly, I induced Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans to make an effort to attract people to her table.  She did so, persevering against the coldness and aversion she met with, and in time succeeded in drawing a tolerably numerous company to her dinners.  They were of exquisite quality, and people soon got over their first hesitation, when they found everything orderly, free, and unobjectionable.  At these dinners, M. d’Orleans kept within bounds, not only in his discourse, but in his behaviour.  But oftentimes his ennui led him to Paris, to join in supper parties and debauchery.  Madame la Duchesse d’Orleans tried to draw him from these pleasures by arranging small parties at her pretty little villa, l’Etoile (in the park of Versailles),