“No, madam; for when I do not see him I forget all about it; but when he is before me, so handsome and so generous, so full of love, I try to make myself equally fond of him; but somehow I cannot help preferring his courier, M. l’Eclair.” These last words completely destroyed all attempts at preserving my gravity, and I burst into the most uncontrollable laughter, which, however, soon gave place to a painful recollection of how soon this young and artless creature, as simple as she was beautiful, was likely to lose this open-heartedness in the hands of her seducer. “Sophie,” said I to her at last, “this unfortunate affair forbids my retaining you any longer in my service; I am compelled to send you from me. I trust this noble lover of yours will never forsake you; have a care only to conceal from him, should you persist in encouraging his addresses, that he has a rival in the person of his courier, l’Eclair.” Sophie threw herself weeping at my feet. I raised and encouraged her by the kindest words to pursue the right path, but I remained steady in my determination of sending her from me. I was not mistaken. The duc de Villeroi became the possessor of poor Sophie, and publicly boasted of having her under his protection. He did not, however, proceed to these extreme measures until he had essayed every possible means of effecting a reconciliation with me, and he employed more than a hundred persons in the vain attempt of inducing me to pardon him. With this view the maréchale de Mirepoix, whose succour he had implored, observed to me that it was sometimes necessary to feign to overlook an insult; I replied, that dissimulation was an art I knew nothing of, nor did I wish ever to acquire it. “Really, my dear countess,” cried she, “you should not live at court, you are absolutely unfit for it.” “It may be so,” replied I; “but I would rather quit Versailles altogether than be surrounded by false and perfidious friends.” All the remonstrances of the good-natured maréchale were fruitless, I could not bring myself to pardon a man who had so openly outraged my friendship. Directly I saw the king, I related the whole affair to him. “It must be confessed,” said he, “that the duke has behaved very ill towards you, but he has certainly shown his taste as far as regards Sophie. She is a sweet creature.” “Ah! you are all alike,” cried I. “You gentlemen think a pretty face an excuse for every fault; and he only deserves blame who can attach himself where beauty is wanting.” “Because he is a simpleton for so doing,” said Louis XV with the utmost gravity, giving me at the same time an affectionate embrace. CHAPTER XXIV The prince des Deux Ponts--Prince Max--The dauphin and Marie Antoinette--The comtesse du Barry and Bridget Rupert--The countess and Geneviève Mathon--Noël--Fresh amours--Nocturnal adventure--Conclusion of this intrigue