I was soon settled in my new house, and I went out to call on M. Zuccato,
the Venetian ambassador. I gave him M. Morosini's letter, and he said,
coldly, that he was glad to make my acquaintance. When I asked him to
present me at Court the insolent fool only replied with a smile, which
might fairly be described as contemptuous. It was the aristocratic pride
coming out, so I returned his smile with a cold bow, and never set foot
in his house again.

On leaving Zuccato I called on Lord Egremont, and finding him ill left my
letter with the porter. He died a few days after, so M. Morosini's
letters were both useless through no fault of his. We shall learn
presently what was the result of the little note.

I then went to the Comte de Guerchi, the French ambassador, with a letter
from the Marquis Chauvelin, and I received a warm welcome. This nobleman
asked me to dine with him the following day, and told me that if I liked
he would present me at Court after chapel on Sunday. It was at that
ambassador's table that I made the acquaintance of the Chevalier d'Eon,
the secretary of the embassy, who afterwards became famous. This
Chevalier d'Eon was a handsome woman who had been an advocate and a
captain of dragoons before entering the diplomatic service; she served
Louis XV. as a valiant soldier and a diplomatist of consummate skill. In
spite of her manly ways I soon recognized her as a woman; her voice was
not that of a castrato, and her shape was too rounded to be a man's. I
say nothing of the absence of hair on her face, as that might be an
accident.

In the first days of my stay in London I made the acquaintance of my
bankers; who held at least three hundred thousand francs of my money.
They all honoured my drafts and offered their services to me, but I did