“When De Lauzun, after having been expelled from the drawing-room of the Queen for his insolent presumption,—­[The allusion here is to the affair of the heron plume.]—­meeting with coolness at the King’s levee, sought to cover his disgrace by appearing at the assemblies of the Duchesse de Polignac, Her Grace was too sincerely the friend of her Sovereign and benefactress not to perceive the drift of his conduct.  She consequently signified to the self-sufficient coxcomb that her assemblies were not open to the public.  Being thus shut out from Their Majesties, and, as a natural result, excluded from the most brilliant societies of Paris, De Lauzun, from a most diabolical spirit of revenge, joined the nefarious party which had succeeded in poisoning the mind of the Duc d’Orleans, and from the hordes of which, like the burning lava from Etna, issued calumnies which swept the most virtuous and innocent victims that ever breathed to their destruction!

“Among the Queen’s favourites, and those most in request at the De Polignac parties, was the good Lady Spencer, with whom I became most intimately acquainted when I first went to England; and from whom, as well as from her two charming daughters, the Duchess of Devonshire and Lady Duncannon, since Lady Besborough, I received the greatest marks of cordial hospitality.  In consequence, when her ladyship came to France, I hastened to present her to the Queen.  Her Majesty, taking a great liking to the amiable Englishwoman, and wishing to profit by her private conversations and society, gave orders that Lady Spencer should pass to her private closet whenever she came to Versailles, without the formal ceremony of waiting in the antechamber to be announced.

“One day, Her Majesty, Lady Spencer, and myself were observing the difficulty there was in acquiring a correct pronunciation of the English language, when Lady Spencer remarked that it only required a little attention.

“‘I beg your pardon,’ said the Queen, ’that’s not all, because there are many things you do not call by their proper names, as they are in the dictionary.’

“‘Pray what are they, please Your Majesty?’

“’Well, I will give you an instance.  For example, ’les culottes’—­what do you call them?’

“‘Small clothes,’ replied her ladyship.

“’Ma foi! how can they be called small clothes for one large man?  Now I do look in the dictionary, and I find, for the word culottes—­breeches.’

“‘Oh, please Your Majesty, we never call them by that name in England.’

“‘Voila done, j’ai raison!’

“‘We say “inexpressibles"!’

“’Ah, c’est mieux!  Dat do please me ver much better.  Il y a du bon sens la dedans.  C’est une autre chose!’

“In the midst of this curious dialogue, in came the Duke of Dorset, Lord Edward Dillon, Count Fersen, and several English gentlemen, who, as they were going to the King’s hunt, were all dressed in new buckskin breeches.