In the evening I had another visit after my own heart from a sister of the order of nuns at Valençay, who was a novice here. Though she is only thirty-three she is already the first assistant at the mother house, whence she comes to inspect here. She looks upon Valençay as her cradle. She came here at the time when I founded the small institution here, and was then remarkably fresh and beautiful. Now she is thin and pale, but still very sweet and gentle in appearance. In spite of her sanctity, which has advanced her so rapidly in the Order, she is very fond of me, and kissed me just as if I was worthy of it, expressing much joy at seeing me again, poor sinner that I am.
Valençay, October 7, 1834.—Yesterday I had a long conversation with M. de Talleyrand about his plans of retirement, which led me to speak to him frankly on several important features of his position. I had the courage to tell him the truth, as is always right when dealing with people of his great age.
Valençay, October 9, 1834.—M. de Montrond, who has been here some days, asked to see me yesterday about an important matter. I saw him, and after some pleasantries which I received rather coldly, he said that he had come to announce his departure, at which I should not probably be surprised, considering the extraordinary way in which M. de Talleyrand was treating him. He spoke for a long time and complained bitterly. He is deeply hurt, and that makes him say many nasty things. He added that he knew quite well that I didn't like him, but that I had always been kind and civil to him, and wished to thank me for it, and to say that, though he had no doubt I should not agree with him, I should be bored to death, and the life I was leading would certainly become insupportable, though it would be difficult for any one to live it more gracefully. In short, he took pains, for what reason I know not, to stand well with me.
I confess that I was very ill at ease during his remarks, which, though broken and abrupt in his usual style, lasted for some time. Here is a summary of my answer, or rather of my answers. I regretted all that might suggest a quarrel, for that would do no good to any one and would damage him (M. de Montrond) most. Society would side against him, as his rudeness to M. de Talleyrand would explain the latter's want of patience. To complain and explain his grievances by the existence of motives such as he had suggested to me would be in very bad taste, and there were some things which should not be said even when they seemed to be true, especially after forty years of a friendship which on M. de Talleyrand's part might be described as patronage. As far as I was concerned, I could not be dull in the midst of my duties and family interests; besides, my life, my habits, my whole existence had for long been bound up with M. de Talleyrand's interests. This was my destiny, with which I was well satisfied and desired no other.
On this he resumed: "It is clear that you are destined to bury him. Then you are very clever and have a great gift for speech and action. You are also enough of a great lady to know how to take things in a certain way. As for me, the only thing to do is to go."
I took him up then. "You have something more to do, and that is to go away civilly without a scene, and not to tell any one that you did so because you were angry. You have, above all, to avoid speaking, I do not say ill, but even lightly, of M. de Talleyrand." He said, "You make very pretty speeches this morning, but if I do as you wish, what will you do for me?"—"I will keep the true cause of your departure secret."—"You are too clever, Madame de Dino."—"I know what I am saying."
He asked me if I would shake hands with him and promise to be good natured about him. "Yes, if you do not speak amiss of M. de Talleyrand." "Very well. I shall not go straight to Paris. I shall go to d'Argenson at Ormes to get over this, and when I have got back my 'lamb-like temper,' I shall speak to the King and invent some business to excuse my not waiting for his son here." "Do what you like so long as you behave like a gentleman." He is gone. At luncheon he said that he had got a letter which obliged him to leave to-day.
The fact is, that I had been expecting something of the kind. M. de Talleyrand, after many years of too long suffering patience, has suddenly gone uncompromisingly to the other extreme, and the day before yesterday so clearly indicated to M. de Montrond that he was not wanted here, that the latter could not overlook it. It is possible that M. de Montrond will impose some restraint on his tongue, just sufficient that is to avoid an accusation of bad faith, but it seems to me impossible that he will not take some underhand way of revenging himself, for he is hurt and upset. To have to go on the eve of the arrival of a large and distinguished party of English people to whom he was preparing to do the honours of Valençay, not to be here when M. le Duc d'Orléans is expected—these are two real disappointments for which he will not forgive M. de Talleyrand.
In the first and most virulent part of his conversation with me he frequently referred to the King and to M. de Flahaut in such a way as to persuade me that he means to take the latter's part absolutely, in order that he may be able to injure M. de Talleyrand with His Majesty. What can one expect of a being like him? But also how childish to lose one's temper after forty years![37] M. de Montrond said to me, "He should treat me with the kindness and intimacy of an old friend, or else with the politeness of a host." To this I replied, "But would not M. de Talleyrand also be justified in saying to you that you give him neither the deference due to one's host, nor the attentions due to his age and to your former relations? In what other house would you have dared to run down everything as you do here? You have criticised his neighbours, his servants, his wine, his horses, in fact everything. If he has been rude you have given him provocation, and, indeed, there are too many witnesses of your habit of perpetual contradiction to make it possible for you to complain of the anger it has aroused."
Valençay, October 14, 1834.—We have staying here Lady Clanricarde, Mr. and Mrs. Dawson Damer, and Mr. Henry Greville. I went for a long drive yesterday with Lady Clanricarde, and talked to her a great deal about her father, the celebrated Mr. Canning, and of her mother, who was not less distinguished, but who did not appear to be much beloved by her daughter. Lady Clanricarde is clever; her manners are restrained, dignified, and in good taste; but, judging from what I saw, I consider her rather hard-hearted and intellectually stiff. Both her manners, however, and her character have, in my opinion, a real value. She never lets herself go and has no personal magnetism, but when all is said and done, she is a figure of real distinction and of the best and most exquisite breeding. Mrs. Damer is a good soul—nothing more.