the financial department of administration.

The Comtesse d'Estrades, who owed everything to Madame de Pompadour,
was incessantly intriguing against her. She was clever enough to
destroy all proofs of her manoeuvres, but she could not so easily
prevent suspicion. Her intimate connection with M. d'Argenson gave
offence to Madame, and, for some time, she was more reserved with
her. She, afterwards, did a thing which justly irritated the
King and Madame. The King, who wrote a great deal, had written
to Madame de Pompadour a long letter concerning an assembly of the
Chambers of Parliament, and had enclosed a letter of M. Berrier.
Madame was ill, and laid those letters on a little table by her
bedside. M. de Gontaut came in, and gossipped about trifles, as
usual. Madame d'Amblimont also came, and stayed but very little
time. Just as I was going to resume a book which I had been reading
to Madame, the Comtesse d'Estrades entered, placed herself near
Madame's bed, and talked to her for some time. As soon as she
was gone, Madame called me, asked what was o'clock, and said,
"Order my door to be shut, the King will soon be here." I gave
the order, and returned; and Madame told me to give her the King's
letter, which was on the table with some other papers. I gave
her the papers, and told her there was nothing else. She was
very uneasy at not finding the letter, and, after enumerating
the persons who had been in the room, she said, "It cannot be
the little Countess, nor Gontaut, who has taken this letter.
It can only be the Comtesse d'Estrades;--and that is too bad."
The King came, and was extremely angry, as Madame told me. Two
days afterwards, he sent Madame d'Estrades into exile. 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, scarcel