“He joined good-naturedly in the laugh which I could not repress at his last regret, and I asked him if he had ever seen the dernière maîtresse en titre du Roi de France, Madame Dubarri.
“‘Frequently,’ replied he, ‘both before and after her disgrace, and, moreover, the last visit I ever paid her has been impressed upon my memory, by the circumstance of its being the first I made after having obtained the dignity of agent-général du clergé, which my mother had been soliciting for me so long. I had been the whole morning closeted with my uncle, listening to his various instructions and counsels relative to my new duties. So anxious was the dear good man to make me perfectly aware of the new dignity with which I had just been invested, that he had kept me for more than two hours standing before him. So strict was the clerical etiquette of the time, that he dared not request me to be seated in the presence of the two acolytes, who, by the law of that same etiquette, never left him, night or day, save when he himself was admitted into the presence of a superior.
“‘As you may imagine, both my strength and patience were exhausted before my dear uncle’s allocution was over, and most heartily did I rejoice when he stretched forth his hand for me to kiss, in token of dismissal. He told me that he had much more to say (I shivered), but that he was anxious I should pay my respects to the minister that very day, as the neglect of such attention might bring disgrace and défaveur at the very outset of my career. I had just time sufficient to gain the minister’s hôtel before the closing of his cabinet, so made all speed to quit my uncle’s presence, glad to escape even with the prospect of another lecture.
“‘I was just descending the steps of the hôtel, when I met the young Duc d’Aiguillon, all excited and ébouriffé as usual, with his vest wide open, and his garments in disorder.
“‘Where are you going so fast?’ exclaimed he, seizing my arm.
“‘To call upon the minister, mon ministre,’ said I, laughing at the look of surprise with which he eyed me, and which betrayed plainly the troubled state of his intellect.
“‘Parbleu!’ exclaimed he, with the twinkling of the eye peculiar to persons in the same state of blessedness in which he then was, ‘and so am I going to call upon the minister. My coach is waiting at the corner, let us go together.’
“‘To this proposal I could of course offer no objection, being, as I tell you, horribly fatigued with my long séance, and having at that time no carriage of my own at command. We walked to the end of the street arm-in-arm together. He leaned upon me heavily, but was laughing heartily the whole way, as if inspired by some merry thought.
“‘You see me thus delighted,’ said he, suddenly stopping short, ‘at the remembrance of the glorious fun we have just been having at the Trois Marroniers. Why were you not there? We were but three, but diverted ourselves comme quarante. Liancourt was en verve, and told some of his best anecdotes about—(he hiccupped slightly)—about Madame Dubarri! I should like to see that woman. Did you ever see her?’ He nodded assent in answer to his own question, and then, with a tipsy giggle, he pushed me in the side, exclaiming, ‘Well, then, jump into the carriage, and I will tell you all about her as we drive along to the minister’s.’
“‘He spoke some few words to his lackey, and seated himself beside me. The moment he entered, he drew down the blinds of the carriage, and, far from opposing such a measure, I was enchanted at what, in my own mind, I termed his discretion, as I thought that he was beginning to be aware of the state he was in, and was afraid of making himself the public gaze.