especially by that
last Fortnight at Baireuth, had rushed off from Paris, to seek her
vagabond, and see into him with her own eyes: "Could n't help it, my
angels!" writes she to the D'Argentals (excellent guardian angels,
Monsieur and Madame; and, I am sure, PATIENT both of them, as only
MONSIEUR Job was, in the old case): "A whole fortnight [perhaps with
madrigals to Princesses], and only four lines to me!"--and is now in
bed, or lately was, at Lille, ill of slow fever (PETITE FIEVRE); panting
to be upon the road again. [_Lettres inedites de Madame du Chastelet a
M. le Comte d'Argental_ (Paris, 1806) p. 253. A curiously elucidative
Letter this ("Brussels, 15th October, 1743"); a curious little Book
altogether.]

Fancy what a greeting for M. de Voltaire, from those eyes HAGARDES ET
LOUCHES; and whether he mentioned that pretty little clause of going to
Berlin "WITHOUT others," or durst for the life of him whisper of going
at all! After pause in the Brussels region, they came back to Paris
"in December;" resigned, I hope, to inexorable Fate,--though with such
Diplomatic and other fine prospects flung to the fishes, and little but
GREDINS and confusions waiting you, as formerly.

Chapter VII.--FRIEDRICH MAKES TREATY WITH FRANCE; AND SILENTLY GETS
READY.

Though Friedrich went upon the bantering tone with Voltaire, his private
thoughts in regard to the surrounding scene of things were extremely
serious; and already it had begun to be apparent, from those
Britannic-Austrian procedures, that some new alliance with France might
well lie ahead for him. During Voltaire's visit, that extraordinary
Paper from Vienna, that the Kaiser was no Kaiser, and that there must be
"compensation" and satisfactory "assurance," had come into full glare of
first-reading; and the DICTATUR-SACHE, and denunciation of an evidently
partial Kur-Mainz, was awakening everywhere. Voltaire had not gone,
when,--through Podewils Junior (probably with help of the improper
Dutch female of rank),--Friedrich got to wit of another thing, not less
momentous to him; and throwing fearful light on that of "compensation"
and "assurance." This was the Treaty of Worms,--done by Carteret and
George, September 13th, during those languid Rhine operations; Treaty
itself not languid, but a very lively thing, to Friedrich and to all the
world! Concerning which a few words now.

We have said, according to promise, and will say, next to nothing of
Maria Theresa's