There was no doubt that she took the letter; the King’s handwriting had probably awakened her curiosity.  This occurrence gave great pain to M. d’Argenson, who was bound to her, as Madame de Pompadour said, by his love of intrigue.  This redoubled his hatred of Madame, and she accused him of favouring the publication of a libel, in which she was represented as a worn-out mistress, reduced to the vile occupation of providing new objects to please her lover’s appetite.  She was characterised as superintendent of the Parc-aux-cerfs, which was said to cost hundreds of thousands of louis a year.  Madame de Pompadour did, indeed, try to conceal some of the King’s weaknesses, but she never knew one of the sultanas of that seraglio.  There were, however, scarcely ever more than two at once, and often only one.  When they married, they received some jewels, and four thousand louis.  The Parc-aux-cerfs was sometimes vacant for five or six months.  I was surprised, some time after, at seeing the Duchesse de Luynes, Lady of Honour to the Queen, come privately to see Madame de Pompadour.  She afterwards came openly.  One evening, after Madame was in bed, she called me, and said, “My dear, you will be delighted; the Queen has given me the place of Lady of the Palace; tomorrow I am to be presented to her:  you must make me look well.”  I knew that the King was not so well pleased at this as she was; he was afraid that it would give rise to scandal, and that it might be thought he had forced this nomination upon the Queen.  He had, however, done no such thing.  It had been represented to the Queen that it was an act of heroism on her part to forget the past; that all scandal would be obliterated when Madame de Pompadour was seen to belong to the Court in an honourable manner; and that it would be the best proof that nothing more than friendship now subsisted between the King and the favourite.  The Queen received her very graciously.  The devotees flattered themselves they should be protected by Madame, and, for some time, were full of her praises.  Several of the Dauphin’s friends came in private to see her, and some obtained promotion.  The Chevalier du Muy, however, refused to come.  The King had the greatest possible contempt for them, and granted them nothing with a good grace.  He, one day, said of a man of great family, who wished to be made Captain of the Guards, “He is a double spy, who wants to be paid on both sides.”  This was the moment at which Madame de Pompadour seemed to me to enjoy the most complete satisfaction.  The devotees came to visit her without scruple, and did not forget to make use of every opportunity of serving themselves.  Madame de Lu——­ had set them the example.  The Doctor laughed at this change in affairs, and was very merry at the expense of the saints.  “You must allow, however, that they are consistent,” said I, “and may be sincere.”  “Yes,” said he; “but then they should not ask for anything.”

One day, I was at Doctor Quesnay’s, whilst Madame de Pompadour was at the theatre.  The Marquis de Mirabeau came in, and the conversation was, for some time, extremely tedious to me, running entirely on net produce; at length, they talked of other things.