The next morning I was on the point of leaving home, when I received a line from her. Our meeting could not take place. She had learned that a discussion of the highest importance, which had been supposed adjourned, was to take place that very day in the Chamber of Deputies, and that she was to go there with M. P. de B——, the Russian ambassador.
My regrets, my vexation, my anger and sorrow, were excessive.
The hour for the opening of the debate had not arrived, so I went at once to Madame de Fersen's.
The footman, instead of announcing me, told me that the princess had denied herself to every one, as she was then in conference with the Prussian minister.
If all the ancestors of the Marquis de Brandebourg had been in the drawing-room I would have entered. I therefore ordered the footman to announce me.
As a culmination to my despair, Catherine had never been more lovely, and my vexation, my ill temper, increased still more.
She seemed amazed at my entrance, and the aged Comte de W—— was visibly annoyed, which, however, was quite immaterial to me.
He took his departure, saying to the princess that they would resume their conversation later.
"How miserable I am at this disappointment!" said Catherine, sadly, "but it is nearly one o'clock; the meeting begins at two, and our ambassador—"
"Eh, madame!" I exclaimed, interrupting her, and violently stamping my foot, "say no more about Chambers and ambassadors; it is a question of choosing between my love and the interests of countries to which you devote yourself. The connection is ridiculous, I admit, but your unreasonable ways provoke it."