After having thus recompensed the zeal of my friends, I had leisure to think of taking vengeance upon the duc de Richelieu for the part he had acted. He came of his own accord to throw himself into the very heat of my anger. He had been calling on the maréchale de Mirepoix, where he had seen with envious eyes the magnificent carpet I had presented her with; the cupidity of the duke induced him, after continually recurring to the subject, to say, that where my friends were concerned, no one could accuse me of want of liberality. “No, sir,” answered I, “I consider that no price can sufficiently repay the kind and faithful services of a true friend, nor can baseness and treachery be too generally exposed and punished.” From the tone in which I spoke the old maréchal easily perceived to what I was alluding. He was wise enough to be silent, whilst I followed up this first burst of my indignation, by adding, “For instance, monsieur le duc, how can I sufficiently repay your friendly zeal to supply the king with a new mistress?” “I, madam?” “Yes, sir, you; I am aware of all your kind offices, and only lament my inability to reward them in a suitable manner.” “In that case I shall not attempt to deny my share in the business.” “You have then sufficient honor to avow your enmity towards me?” “By no means enmity, madam. I merely admit my desire to contribute to the amusement of the king, and surely, when I see all around anxious to promote the gratification of their sovereign, I need not be withheld from following so loyal an example. The duc de Duras was willing to present his own relation for his majesty’s acceptance, the abbé Terray offers his own daughter, Comte Jean his sister-in-law, whilst I simply threw a humble and modest female in his majesty’s path. I cannot see in what my fault exceeds that of the gentlemen I have just mentioned.” “You really are the most audacious of men,” replied I, laughing; “I shall be obliged to solicit a _lettre de cachet_ to hold you a prisoner in Guienne. Upon my word, your nephew and myself have a valuable and trustworthy friend in you.” “Hark ye, madam,” rejoined the maréchal. “I know not, in the first place, whether his majesty would very easily grant you this _lettre de cachet_, which most certainly I do not deserve. You have served my nephew and neglected me; I wished to try the strength of my poor wings, and I find, like many others, that I must not hope to soar to any height.” While we were thus talking the maréchale de Mirepoix was announced. I was still much agitated, and she immediately turned towards the duke, as if to inquire of him the cause of my distress: upon which, M. de Richelieu related all that had passed with a cool exactitude that enraged me still further. When he had finished, I said, “Well, madame la maréchale, and what is your opinion of all this?”