She it was who pointed out to me the perfidious conduct of the duc de Villeroi. This gentleman, from the very beginning of my rise in the royal favour, had demonstrated the most lively friendship for me, of which he sought to persuade me by the strongest protestations, which, weak and credulous as I was, I implicitly believed, until one day that Henriette, availing herself of my being quite alone, let me into the secrets of my establishment and furnished me with a key to the assiduities of M. de Villeroi. Amongst the females in my service was one named Sophie, young, beautiful both in face and form, of a sweet disposition, and every way calculated to inspire the tender passion. M. de Villeroi felt the full force of her charms, and became the whining, sighing lover--her very shadow. Up to this period I had had no cause of complaint against M. de Villeroi; and certainly I should not have interfered with his plebeian flame had he not thought proper, when questioned by my enemies as to his continual presence at the castle, and great assiduities there, to protest that his visits thither were not in honour of my charms, but for those of my waiting-maid. However, my vanity had rendered me his constant dupe. I felt perfectly astonished as I listened to Henriette’s recital; and when she had ceased, I conjured her to tell me candidly, whether she had not invented the whole tale either out of spite to Sophie or with a design to make me break off further friendship with the duke. This she most solemnly denied, and recommended me to make inquiries amongst my friends, who would be compelled to bear testimony to the truth of all she had asserted. I determined to do so; and the first person whom I was enabled to interrogate respecting the affair was the bishop de Senlis. This prelate came frequently to see me, and I found his society each day more pleasing. He served me as a kind of gazette of all that passed with the princesses, in whose opinion I had still the misfortune not to be in the very highest estimation. When occasion required it, M. de Roquelaure would venture to take my part, and that without making a single enemy; for who could be offended with one so affable, so good, so full of kindness towards all? In fact, the worthy bishop was so fortunate as to obtain the love of every person who knew him; and, in the most select society of opposing parties, each would reserve a place for good M. de Roquelaure. When I questioned him as to his knowledge of the affair, his embarrassment was evident. “What a world is this!” cried he. “Why, let me ask, do you listen to those who repeat such mortifying tales to you?” “Because, my lord, my friends will not see me made the sport of a heartless and perfidious friend; and, if you entertain the slightest regard for me, I conjure you to tell me all you know upon the subject.”