“I do not know, monsieur le maréchal; there are obstacles in the way. I fear that they who wish to injure me abuse their influence with the king.”
“I see that his majesty hesitates, altho’ he is desirous of giving you station. He must be stimulated to know that he is master; and that if he shows any wavering in this particular, it will be made use of to govern him hereafter.”
Heartily did I applaud the language of M. de Soubise: I did not suspect that the dear prince had another motive behind. At the end of the interview he said,
“Madame, you would not have been as you now are had you been more conciliatory towards me. I know the king, and know how to manage him. I flatter myself that you would have been now presented had you deigned to hear my advice.”
“Did I reject it? Was I wrong in declining to have mademoiselle Guimard as ambassadress? Were you assured of her silence? Might she not have compromised us?”
“You are right; I did as one would have done at your age, and you have done as I should do at mine; but there is always time to amend.”
“Certainly, prince.”
“You accept my advice, then.”
“Yes,” I replied, seeing the defile in which he wished to entrap me, “yes, if I am presented thro’ your influence, from that moment you become my guide and mentor. But it is important that the presentation be not delayed; I rely on you to speak to the king this day about it; and I know that he will give me every particular of the immense service you will render me.”
For once the madcap girl got the better of the practised courtier. M. de Soubise, taken in his own snare, politely excused himself, and left me with an assurance that he would speak to the king. He did speak, but obtained nothing more than any other. You will see in my next letter that I did not arrive at the accomplishment of my wishes without much trouble. There were in this affair more intrigues for and against me than were afterwards set on foot to decide war with America.