replied he, "would have entangled you in their nets,
and, separated from your real friends, would have made you the innocent
author of your own destruction. Tell the king just so much, that the duc
de Choiseul has been to see you, that you conversed together some time,
and that he has offended you more than ever."

"I promise you, my kind friend," said I, "to follow your advice."

When I next saw the king, I apprized him of the visit.

"That does not astonish me," said Louis XV, "the duke is anxious to be
on friendly terms with you."

"He has then taken a very contrary road to arrive at my friendship,"
said I; "if he really desires that we should be on good terms, he must
conduct himself very differently"; and there the conversation ended. But
several days afterwards, having sent away my _maitre d'hotel_, with whom
I had reason to be dissatisfied, and the king appearing surprised at
seeing a fresh countenance amongst my household, I said to him, "Sir,
I have got rid of _my_ Choiseul, when will it please you to get rid of
yours?" The king, without replying to me, began to laugh; in which, for
want of a better termination to my remark, I was constrained to join.

CHAPTER XXIII

Dorine--Mademoiselle Choin and the marechal d'Uxelles--
Zamor--M. de Maupeou's wig--Henriette--The duc de Villeroi
and Sophie--Letter from the comtesse du Barry to the duc de
Villeroi--His reply--The countess writes again--Madame du
Barry and Sophie--Louis XV and the comtesse du Barry

Among the number which composed my household were three beings who
played conspicuous parts in my family, and who received the kindest
caresses in honour of their mistress. These three favoured objects were
Dorine, Zamor, and Henriette. Following the order or disorder in which
I have written thus far, I will first introduce my dear Dorine to your
notice.

Sweet, beautiful Dorine! how amiably affectionate and attached to thy
mistress wert thou! The poor animal still exists; for I would have you
know that I am speaking of a most faithful little dog; now indeed grown
old, asthmatic and snappish; but fifteen years since, distinguished for
her lightness, swiftness, and grace, for her pretty little countenance,
white teeth, large sparkling eyes, long tufted tail, and above all,
for her snow-white coat, spotted here and there with the most beautiful
brown.

Dorine was just three months old when madame de Montmorency brought
her to m