disgrace of the duke, he in some
sort asked her pardon for the chagrin which he had caused her. Good
conduct is no claim to advancement at court, but it procures the esteem
of the courtiers. Remember, my friend, this moral maxim: there is not
one of greater truth in my whole journal.

The king, unable to interpose his authority in a woman's quarrel, was
yet determined on giving a striking proof of the attachment he bore to
me. I had up to this period occupied Lebel's apartments in the chateau:
it was not befitting my station, and the king thought he would give me
those of madame de Pompadour, to which I had some claim. This apartment
was now occupied by the comte de Noailles, governor of the chateau, who,
as great fool as the rest of his family, began to exclaim most lustily
when the king's will was communicated to him. He came to his majesty
complaining and lamenting. The king listened very quietly to his list
of grievances; and when he had moaned and groaned out his dolorous tale,
his majesty said to him,

"My dear count, who built the chateau of Versailles?"

"Why, sire, your illustrious grandfather."

"Well, then, as I am at home, I mean to be master. You may establish the
seat of your government where you will; but in two hours the place must
be free. I am in earnest."

The comte de Noailles departed much disconcerted, took away his
furniture, and the same evening I installed myself in the apartments.
You must think that this was a fresh cause of chagrin, and created me
more enemies. There are certain families who look upon the court as
their hereditary domain: the Noailles was one of them. However, there
is no grounds of pretension to such a right. Their family took its rise
from a certain Adhemar de Noailles, _capitoul_ of Toulouse, ennobled,
according to all appearance, by the exercise of his charge in 1459. The
grandfather of these Noailles was a domestic of M. de Turenne's, and his
family was patronized at court by madame de Maintenon. Everybody knows
this. But to return to my presentation.

M. de Maupeou, whose good services I can never sufficiently vaunt,
came to me one day, and said, "I think that I have found a lady
_presenteuse_. I have a dame of quality who will do what we want."

"Who is it?" said I, with joy.

"A comtesse d'Escarbagnas, a litigious lady, with much ambition and
avarice. You must see her, talk with her, and understand each other."

"But where can we see her?"

"That is easy e