I was sufficiently
aware how much a woman of her character was to be feared, I preferred
exposing myself to the scourge of her hatred rather than to that of her
friendship.

My having so few friends in the society of Madam de Luxembourg would not
have been in the least dangerous had I had no enemies in the family.
Of these I had but one, who, in my then situation, was as powerful as a
hundred. It certainly was not M. de Villeroy, her brother; for he not
only came to see me, but had several times invited me to Villeroy;
and as I had answered to the invitation with all possible politeness
and respect, he had taken my vague manner of doing it as a consent,
and arranged with Madam de Luxembourg a journey of a fortnight, in which
it was proposed to me to make one of the party. As the cares my health
then required did not permit me to go from home without risk, I prayed
Madam de Luxembourg to have the goodness to make my apologies. Her
answer proves this was done with all possible ease, and M. de Villeroy
still continued to show me his usual marks of goodness. His nephew and
heir, the young Marquis of Villeroy, had not for me the same benevolence,
nor had I for him the respect I had for his uncle. His harebrained
manner rendered him insupportable to me, and my coldness drew upon me his
aversion. He insultingly attacked me one evening at table, and I had the
worst of it because I am a fool, without presence of mind; and because
anger, instead of rendering my wit more poignant, deprives me of the
little I have. I had a dog which had been given me when he was quite
young, soon after my arrival at the Hermitage, and which I had called
Duke. This dog, not handsome, but rare of his kind, of which I had made
my companion and friend, a title which he certainly merited much more
than most of the persons by whom it was taken, became in great request at
the castle of Montmorency for his good nature and fondness, and the
attachment we had for each other; but from a foolish pusillanimity I had
changed his name to Turk, as if there were not many dogs called Marquis,
without giving the least offence to any marquis whatsoever. The Marquis
of Villeroy, who knew of the change of name, attacked me in such a manner
that I was obliged openly at table to relate what I had done. Whatever
there might be offensive in the name of duke, it was not in my having
given but in my having taken it away. The worst of it all was, there
were many duk