delays, and gyratings from Planet to Planet, 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