My father-in-law, whose penetration and experience I respected greatly, recommended me, when he saw me placed in the service of a young queen, to shun all kinds of confidence.  “It procures,” said he, “but a very fleeting, and at the same time dangerous sort of favour; serve with zeal to the best of your judgment, but never do more than obey.  Instead of setting your wits to work to discover why an order or a commission which may appear of consequence is given to you, use them to prevent the possibility of your knowing anything of the matter.”  I had occasion to act on this wise advice.  One morning at Trianon I went into the Queen’s chamber; there were letters lying upon the bed, and she was weeping bitterly.  Her tears and sobs were occasionally interrupted by exclamations of “Ah! that I were dead!—­wretches! monsters!  What have I done to them?” I offered her orange-flower water and ether.  “Leave me,” said she, “if you love me; it would be better to kill me at once.”  At this moment she threw her arm over my shoulder and began weeping afresh.  I saw that some weighty trouble oppressed her heart, and that she wanted a confidant.  I suggested sending for the Duchesse de Polignac; this she strongly opposed.  I renewed my arguments, and her opposition grew weaker.  I disengaged myself from her arms, and ran to the antechamber, where I knew that an outrider always waited, ready to mount and start at a moment’s warning for Versailles.  I ordered him to go full speed, and tell the Duchesse de Polignac that the Queen was very uneasy, and desired to see her instantly.  The Duchess always had a carriage ready.  In less than ten minutes she was at the Queen’s door.  I was the only person there, having been forbidden to send for the other women.  Madame de Polignac came in; the Queen held out her arms to her, the Duchess rushed towards her.  I heard her sobs renewed and withdrew.

A quarter of an hour afterwards the Queen, who had become calmer, rang to be dressed.  I sent her woman in; she put on her gown and retired to her boudoir with the Duchess.  Very soon afterwards the Comte d’Artois arrived from Compiegne, where he had been with the King.  He eagerly inquired where the Queen was; remained half an hour with her and the Duchess; and on coming out told me the Queen asked for me.  I found her seated on the couch by the side of her friend; her features had resumed their usual cheerful and gracious appearance.  She held out her hand to me, and said to the Duchess, “I know I have made her so uncomfortable this morning that I must set her poor heart at ease.”  She then added, “You must have seen, on some fine summer’s day, a black cloud suddenly appear and threaten to pour down upon the country and lay it waste.  The lightest wind drives it away, and the blue sky and serene weather are restored.  This is just the image of what has happened to me this morning.”  She afterwards told me that the King would return from Compiegne after hunting