The Duchesse de Brancas took the phial which was upon the toilet, and after having smelt at it, “Fie!” said she, and threw it into the fire.  Madame de Pompadour scolded her, and said, “I don’t like to be treated like a child.”  She wept again, and said, “You don’t know what happened to me a week ago.  The King, under pretext of the heat of the weather, lay down upon my sofa, and passed half the night there.  He will take a disgust to me and have another mistress.”—­“You will not avoid that,” replied the Duchess, “by following your new diet, and that diet will kill you; render your company more and more precious to the King by your gentleness:  do not repulse him in his fond moments, and let time do the rest; the chains of habit will bind him to you for ever.”  They then embraced; Madame de Pompadour recommended secrecy to Madame de Brancas, and the diet was abandoned.

A little while after, she said to me, “Our master is better pleased with me.  This is since I spoke to Quesnay, without, however, telling him all.  He told me, that to accomplish my end, I must try to be in good health, to digest well, and, for that purpose, take exercise.  I think the Doctor is right.  I feel quite a different creature.  I adore that man (the King), I wish so earnestly to be agreeable to him!  But, alas! sometimes he says I am a macreuse (a cold-blooded aquatic bird).  I would give my life to please him.”

One day, the King came in very much heated.  I withdrew to my post, where I listened.  “What is the matter?” said Madame de Pompadour.  “The long robes and the clergy,” replied he, “are always at drawn daggers, they distract me by their quarrels.  But I detest the long robes the most.  My clergy, on the whole, is attached and faithful to me; the others want to keep me in a state of tutelage.”—­“Firmness,” said Madame de Pompadour, “is the only thing that can subdue them.”—­“Robert Saint Vincent is an incendiary, whom I wish I could banish, but that would make a terrible tumult.  On the other hand, the Archbishop is an iron-hearted fellow, who tries to pick quarrels.  Happily, there are some in the Parliament upon whom I can rely, and who affect to be very violent, but can be softened upon occasion.  It costs me a few abbeys, and a few secret pensions, to accomplish this.  There is a certain V—–­ who serves me very well, while he appears to be furious on the other side.”—­“I can tell you some news of him, Sire,” said Madame de Pompadour.  “He wrote to me yesterday, pretending that he is related to me, and begging for an interview.”—­“Well,” said the King, “let him come.  See him; and if he behaves well, we shall have a pretext for giving him something.”  M. de Gontaut came in, and seeing that they were talking seriously, said nothing.  The King walked about in an agitated manner, and suddenly exclaimed, “The Regent was very wrong in restoring to them the right of remonstrating; they will end in ruining the State.”—­“All,