She came. I received her with all possible courtesy, and yet not with much heartiness. I could not help remembering the vexatious terms she set upon her complaisance. However, the supper was gay enough, comte Jean and my sisters-in-law, who knew very well how to dissemble, did the honors in a most agreeable way. On leaving table we went into the drawing-room, and then began to discuss the serious question which had brought us together. At the first words which comte Jean uttered, madame de Bearn, taking my hands with a respectful familiarity, said to me:--“I hope, madame, that you will not have a bad opinion of me, if I put such conditions to my desire of obliging you. The situation of my family requires it, but it is only a trifle for the king to grant.” “Much more than you imagine, madame,” I replied. “The king does not care to involve himself in such engagements. He does not like, moreover, that his sacred word should be doubted.” “Ah?” replied the cunning creature, “heaven forbid that I should not blindly trust to the king’s word, but his memory may fail, or he, like other men, may forget.” “Madame,” replied comte Jean, with the utmost gravity, “madame is a lady as full of prudence as of kindness, but yet a little too exacting. Madame wishes to have a promise signed for herself and son: that is too much. Why does she not content herself in dividing the difficulty, by satisfying herself with a verbal promise for what concerns herself, and with a written engagement for what relates to her son?” “_Mon Dieu, monsieur_,” replied the countess, “I am anxious to arrange all to our mutual satisfaction. But his majesty would not surely refuse the entreaties of madame for what I ask.” “I will speak to him of it the first time I see him.” “Oh, you are a charming woman. You will obtain all from the king, and make a sure friend--” “Whose friendship is very difficult to acquire,” said I, interrupting her. The countess would have replied to this, when my first _valet-de-chambre_, opening the two folding-doors of the room, announced the king. At this unexpected name my guest trembled, and in spite of the thick rouge which covered her cheeks, I perceived she turned pale. She then saw the scene we had prepared for her: she wished herself a hundred leagues off: but she could do nothing, but remain where she was. I took her by the hand, all trembling as she was, and presented her to the king, saying, “Sire, I now do for this lady, in my own drawing-room, what she will have the kindness to do for me at the state-chamber.”