"
"Well?"
"The duc de la Vauguyon."
"What, the devotee?"
"The hypocrite. But never mind: the main point is, that you must
not appear to recognize the king. Instruct your sister-in-law to
this effect."
"Certainly; if she must sin, she had better do so with some reason."
While these gentlemen were thus disposing of me, what was I
doing? Alone, in my room, I waited the result of their conference
with mortal impatience. The character I had to play was a superb
one, and at the moment was about to enter on the stage, I felt all
the difficulties of my part. I feared I should not succeed, but fail
amid the insulting hisses of the Versailles party.
My fears at once disappeared, and then I pictured myself sitting
on a throne, magnificently attired; my imagination wandered in
all the enchantments of greatness; --then, as if from remorse, I
recalled my past life. The former lover of Nicholas blushed
before the future mistress of Louis XV. A thousand different
reflections crowded upon me, and mingled in my brain. If to live
is to think, I lived a whole age in one quarter of an hour. At
length I heard some doors open, a carriage rolled away, and comte
Jean entered my chamber.
"Victory!" cried he, embracing me with transport. "Victory! my
dear Jeanne, to-morrow you sup with the king."
On this information I turned pale, my strength forsook me, and I
was compelled to sit down, or rather to fall into a chair; for,
according to Jean Jacques Rousseau, my legs shook under me
(
).
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