of laurels on his head. Then the Marquis de Cubieres arrived.
While we sent for a guitar of his, which he had turned into a gilded
lyre, I attended to his costume, and then likewise dressed up M. de
Riviere, and Chaudet, the famous sculptor.

The hour was waxing late. I had little time to think of myself. But as
I always wore white gowns in the form of a tunic--now called a
blouse--it was sufficient to put a veil and a wreath of flowers on my
head. I took particular pains in costuming my daughter, darling child
that she was, and Mlle. de Bonneuil, now Mme. Regnault d'Angely, who
was as lovely as an angel. Both were ravishing to behold, bearing a
very light antique vase, in readiness to serve us with drink.

At half past nine the preparations were ended, and at ten we heard the
carriage of the Count de Vaudreuil and of Boutin roll in, and when
these two gentlemen arrived before the door of the dining-room, whose
two leaves I had thrown open, they found us singing Gluck's chorus,
"The God of Paphos," with M. de Cubieres accompanying us on his lyre.
Never in all my days have I seen two such astonished faces as those of
M. de Vaudreuil and his companion. They were so surprised and
delighted that they stood motionless for a long time before they could
make up their minds to take the seats we had reserved for them.

Besides the two courses I have mentioned, we had for supper a cake
made with honey and Corinth raisins, and two dishes of vegetables. I
confess that that evening we drank a bottle of old Cyprus wine, which
had been presented to me. But that was the whole of our dissipation.
We nevertheless remained a long time at table, where Lebrun recited to
us several odes of "Anacreon," which he had translated, and I think I
never spent a more amusing evening. M. Boutin and M. de Vaudreuil were
so enthusiastic that the next day they told all their friends about
the entertainment.

Some of the women of the court asked me to repeat the performance. I
declined for various reasons, and some of them felt hurt by my
refusal. Soon the report spread in society that this supper had cost
me twenty thousand francs. The King spoke of it with annoyance to the
Marquis de Cubieres, who fortunately had been one of my guests, and
who therefore was able to convince His Majesty how foolish the
accusation was. Nevertheless, what was estimated at Versailles at the
modest price of twenty thousand francs was increased at Rome to forty
thousand.