recommended me, when he saw me placed in the service of a young queen, to
shun all kinds of confidence. "It procures," said he, "but a very
fleeting, and at the same time dangerous sort of favour; serve with zeal
to the best of your judgment, but never do more than obey. Instead of
setting your wits to work to discover why an order or a commission which
may appear of consequence is given to you, use them to prevent the
possibility of your knowing anything of the matter." I had occasion to
act on this wise advice. One morning at Trianon I went into the Queen's
chamber; there were letters lying upon the bed, and she was weeping
bitterly. Her tears and sobs were occasionally interrupted by
exclamations of "Ah! that I were dead!--wretches! monsters! What have I
done to them?" I offered her orange-flower water and ether. "Leave me,"
said she, "if you love me; it would be better to kill me at once." At
this moment she threw her arm over my shoulder and began weeping afresh. I
saw that some weighty trouble oppressed her heart, and that she wanted a
confidant. I suggested sending for the Duchesse de Polignac; this she
strongly opposed. I renewed my arguments, and her opposition grew weaker.
I disengaged myself from her arms, and ran to the antechamber, where I
knew that an outrider always waited, ready to mount and start at a
moment's warning for Versailles. I ordered him to go full speed, and tell
the Duchesse de Polignac that the Queen was very uneasy, and desired to
see her instantly. The Duchess always had a carriage ready. In less than
ten minutes she was at the Queen's door. I was the only person there,
having been forbidden to send for the other women. Madame de Polignac
came in; the Queen held out her arms to her, the Duchess rushed towards
her. I heard her sobs renewed and withdrew.

A quarter of an hour afterwards the Queen, who had become calmer, rang to
be dressed. I sent her woman in; she put on her gown and retired to her
boudoir with the Duchess. Very soon afterwards the Comte d'Artois arrived