She had depth of wit, a piquancy of expression,
and knew how to disguise those interested adulations with turns
so noble and beautiful that I have never met, neither before nor
since, any woman worthy of being compared with her. She was,
in her single self, a whole society; and certainly there was no
possibility of being wearied when she was there. Her temper was
most equable, a qualification rarely obtained without a loss of
warmth of feeling. She always pleased because her business was
to please and not to love; and it always sufficed her to render others
enthusiastic and ardent. Except this tendency to egotism, she was
the charm of society, the life of the party whom she enlivened by
her presence. She knew precisely when to mourn with the afflicted,
and joke with the merry-hearted. The king had much pleasure in
her company: he knew that she only thought how to amuse him; and,
moreover, as he had seen her from morning till evening with the
marquise de Pompadour, her absence from my parties was insupportable
to him, and almost contrary to the rules of etiquette at the chateau.
I cannot tell you how great was his satisfaction, when, at the
first supper which followed our intimacy, he saw her enter. He
ran to meet her like a child, and gave a cry of joy, which must
have been very pleasing to the marechale.
"You are a dear woman," he said to her, with an air which accorded
with his words, "I always find you when I want you; and you can
nowhere be more in place than here.
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