D’Eon was present at all the parties arranged by the Queen’s women of the bedchamber. If, perchance, he refused to accompany them, Sophie Genêt would despatch a note to him, in her schoolgirlish hand, to entreat him to reconsider his decision; at the same time she dreaded being importunate, “for that would mean sadness to her hosts.” When they went on a visit to their Uncle Genêt de Charmontaut at his charming seat at Mainville, near Melun, word was at once sent to d’Eon, who allowed himself to be persuaded by such pressing invitations. So entirely did he captivate the modest lord of the manor, that the latter could not find words flattering enough to thank him for coming, nor terms humble enough to excuse his frugal hospitality. D’Eon always showed gratitude to the family which had received him so cordially. Very faithful in his friendships, he was equally generous, notwithstanding his small means. He was constantly sending to them various Burgundian produce from Tonnerre; truffles, at that time highly prized and not much known; venison, and especially wine from his own vineyards, which M. Amelot, the Comte de Vergennes, and the Duc de Chaulnes, as they themselves admitted, liked particularly. I have received, my dear friend (wrote Genêt), two delicious presents from you in one week, both calculated to rejoice the heart—namely, your portrait as a dragoon, which M. Bradel has sent to me, and with which I am much pleased, and a cask of your excellent wine. We shall place the portrait on the table while drinking your health. You are aware of our devotion to you, and we rely on your friendship, knowing, as we do, the kindness of your heart. But d’Eon was able to prove his attachment better than by these small attentions; for with the prudence and authority of a dowager, who takes pleasure in the part she is acting, he succeeded in bringing about the happiness of one of his young friends, Adelaide Genêt, if we may rely on a letter which she wrote to him the day after her marriage with M. Auguié. According to M. Genêt, it was “a successful piece of work, which was crowned beyond all expectation” by the Queen herself. D’Eon must have found his patriarchal life very monotonous, and after a few weeks “the charm of Petit-Montreuil covered with snow” vanished. He could think of nothing but fame, success and publicity, and avoided with difficulty the attention of these unimportant people who wished to meet this strange prodigy. His fame was then universal, and everywhere people were courting a heroine who was as modest as she was brave, and whom her contemporaries could only compare to Joan of Arc or Jeanne Hachette.