and de Machault, the faithless friend, was dismissed. The King returned
to Madame de Pompadour, as usual. I learnt, by M. de Marigny, that the
Abbe had been, one day, with M. d'Argenson, to endeavour to persuade him
to live on friendly terms with Madame, and that he had been very coldly
received. "He is the more arrogant," said he, "on account of Machault's
dismissal, which leaves the field clear for him, who has more experience,
and more talent; and I fear that he will, therefore, be disposed to
declare war till death." The next day, Madame having ordered her chaise,
I was curious to know where she was going, for she went out but little,
except to church, and to the houses of the Ministers. I was told that
she was gone to visit M. d'Argenson. She returned in an hour, at
farthest, and seemed very much out of spirits. She leaned on the
chimneypiece, with her eyes fixed on the border of it. M. de Bernis
entered. I waited for her to take off her cloak and gloves. She had her
hands in her muff. The Abbe stood looking at her for some minutes; at
last he said, "You look like a sheep in a reflecting mood." She awoke
from her reverie, and, throwing her muff on the easy-chair, replied, "It
is a wolf who makes the sheep reflect." I went out: the King entered
shortly after, and I heard Madame de Pompadour sobbing. The Abbe came
into my room, and told me to bring some Hoffman's drops: the King himself
mixed the draught with sugar, and presented it to her in the kindest
manner possible. She smiled, and kissed the King's hands. I left the
room. Two days after, very early in the morning, I heard of M.
d'Argenson's exile. It was her doing, and was, indeed, the strongest
proof of her influence that could be given. The King was much attached
to M. d'Argenson, and the war, then carrying on, both by sea and land,
rendered the dismissal of two such Ministers extremely imprudent. This
was the universal opinion at the time.

Many people talk of the letter of the Comte d'Argenson to Madame
d'Esparbes. I give it, according to the most correct version:

"The doubtful is, at length, decided. The Keeper of the Seals is
dismissed. You will be recalled, my dear Countess, and we shall be
masters of the field."

It is much less generally known that Arboulin, whom Madame calls Bou-bou,
was supposed to be the person who, on the very day of the dismissal of
the Keeper of the Seals, bribed the Count's confidential courier, who
ga