We all laughed at her frankness, and the gaiety with which she gave this statement, but we went no further; to her great regret, no doubt, for I believe that the scene had been prepared between her and M. de Duras, either to let her profit in time of need, or else that she wished to pluck a feather from our wing. When I was alone with the king, he said, “The poor maréchale pains me; I should like to oblige her and think I will give her five hundred louis.” “What will such a petty sum avail her? You know what she wants; either send her the whole or none. A king should do nothing by halves.” Louis XV answered me nothing; he only made a face, and began to walk up and down the room. “Ah,” said I, “this excellent woman loves your majesty so much, that you ought to show your gratitude to her, were it only to recompense her for her intimacy with me.” “Well, you shall carry her the sum yourself, which Lebel shall bring you from me. But thirty thousand francs, that makes a large pile of crown-pieces.” “Then I must take it in gold.” “No, but in good notes. We must not, even by a look, intimate that she has _sold_ her visits to us. There are such creatures in the world!” The next morning Lebel brought me a very handsome rose-colored portfolio, embroidered with silver and auburn hair: it contained the thirty thousand francs in notes. I hastened to the maréchale. We were then at Marly. “What good wind blows you hither?” said madame de Mirepoix. “A royal gallantry,” I replied; “you appeared unhappy, and our excellent prince sends you the money necessary to redeem your jewels.” The eyes of the lady became animated, and she embraced me heartily. “It is to you that I owe this bounty of the king.” “Yes, partly, to make the present entire; he would only have given you half the sum.” “I recognize him well in that he does not like to empty his casket. He would draw on the public treasury without hesitation for double the revenue of France, and would not make a division of a single crown of his own private _peculium_.” I give this speech _verbatim_; and this was all the gratitude which madame de Mirepoix manifested towards Louis XV. I was pained at it, but made no remark. She took up the portfolio, examined it carefully, and, bursting into a fit of laughter, said, while she flung herself into an arm-chair, “Ah! ah! ah! this is an unexpected rencontre! Look at this portfolio, my dear friend: do you see the locks with which it is decorated? Well, they once adorned the head of madame de Pompadour. She herself used them to embroider this garland of silver thread; she gave it to the king on his birthday. Louis XV swore never to separate from it, and here it is in my hands.” Then, opening the portfolio, and rummaging it over, she found in a secret pocket a paper, which she opened, saying, “I knew he had left it.”