was well set, and fell with ease into that natural
order which it is so difficult to imitate. Her
complexion was possessed of a certain freshness, not
to be equalled by borrowed colours: her eyes
were not large, but they were lively, and capable
of expressing whatever she pleased: her mouth
was full of graces, and her contour uncommonly perfect;
nor was her nose, which was small, delicate, and turned
up, the least ornament of so lovely a face. In
fine, her air, her carriage, and the numberless graces
dispersed over her whole person, made the Chevalier
de Grammont not doubt but that she was possessed of
every other qualification. Her mind was a proper
companion for such a form: she did not endeavour
to shine in conversation by those sprightly sallies
which only puzzle; and with still greater care she
avoided that affected solemnity in her discourse, which
produces stupidity; but, without any eagerness to
talk, she just said what she ought, and no more.
She had an admirable discernment in distinguishing
between solid and false wit; and far from making an
ostentatious display of her abilities, she was reserved,
though very just in her decisions: her sentiments
were always noble, and even lofty to the highest extent,
when there was occasion; nevertheless, she was less
prepossessed with her own merit than is usually the
case with those who have so much. Formed, as
we have described, she could not fail of commanding
love; but so far was she from courting it, that she
was scrupulously nice with respect to those whose
merit might entitle them to form any pretensions to
her.
The more the Chevalier de Grammont was convinced of
these truths, the more did he endeavour to please
and engage her in his turn: his entertaining
wit, his conversation, lively, easy, and always distinguished
by novelty, constantly gained him attention; but he
was much embarrassed to find that presents, which
so easily made their way in his former method of courtship,
were no longer proper in the mode which, for the future,
he was obliged to pursue.
He had an old valet-de-chambre, called Termes, a bold
thief, and a still more impudent liar: he used
to send this man from London every week, on the commissions
we have before mentioned; but after the disgrace of
Mrs. Middleton, and the adventure of Miss Warmestre,
Mr. Termes was only employed in bringing his master’s
clothes from Paris, and he did not always acquit himself
with the greatest fidelity in that employment, as
will appear hereafter.
The queen was a woman of sense, and used all her endeavours
to please the king, by that kind obliging behaviour
which her affection made natural to her: she
was particularly attentive in promoting every sort
of pleasure and amusement especially such as she could
be present at herself.