That evening I was a Master of Appeals to the Council of State, and was appointed to certain secret employment for the King—a confidential post which was to be permanent so long as he should reign, not splendid in appearance, but with no risk of overthrow, and which placed me at the heart of Government, and was, in fact, the foundation of all my prosperity.
Madame de Mortsauf had seen clearly, and I owed everything to her: power and wealth, happiness and knowledge; she guided and purified my heart, and gave my purpose that unity without which the powers of youth are vainly frittered away. At a later date I had a colleague. Each of us was on service for six months at a time. We could at need take each other’s place; we had a room in the palace, a carriage at our command, and a handsome allowance for expenses when called upon to travel.
It was a strange position! We were the secret disciples of a monarch to whose policy his enemies have since done signal justice; we heard his judgment on all matters internal and foreign; we had no acknowledged influence, but were occasionally consulted, as Laforêt was consulted by Molière, and we heard the hesitancy of long experience corrected by the conscience of youth.
Our prospects were indeed settled in a way to satisfy our ambition. Besides my pay as Master of Appeals, paid out of the revenue of the Council of State, the King gave me a thousand francs a month out of the privy purse, and not unfrequently made me a present. Though the King knew full well that a young man of three-and-twenty could not long withstand the amount of work he piled upon me, my colleague, now a peer of France, was not appointed till the month of August, 1817. A choice was so difficult, our functions demanded such various qualities, that the King was long in coming to a decision. He did me the honor to ask me which of the young men among whom he was prepared to choose would best suit me as a companion. One of the number was a former comrade of mine at the Lepître boardinghouse, and I did not name him.
The King asked me why.
“Your Majesty,” said I, “has mentioned men of equal loyalty, but of different degrees of ability. I have named the man I consider the most capable, feeling certain that we shall always agree.”
My judgment coincided with the King’s, who was always grateful for the sacrifice I had made. On this occasion he said to me, “You will be the first of the two.” And he gave my colleague to understand this; still, in return for this service, my deputy became my friend.
The consideration with which I was treated by the Duc de Lenoncourt was the standard for that shown me by the rest of the world. The mere words—“The King is greatly interested in this young man; he has a future before him; the King likes him”—would have sufficed in lieu of talents; but they also added to the kindness shown to a young official, the indescribable tribute that is paid only to power.
Either at the Duc de Lenoncourt’s, or at my sister’s house—married at about this time to our cousin the Marquis de Listomère, the son of the old aunt I had been wont to visit in the Île Saint-Louis—I gradually made the acquaintance of the most influential persons of the Faubourg Saint-Germain.
Henriette ere long threw me into the heart of the circle known as the “Petit-Château,” by the good offices of the Princesse de Blamont-Chauvry, whose grandniece she was by marriage. She wrote of me in such glowing terms, that the Princess at once invited me to call on her. I was assiduous, and was so happy as to please her; she became not my patroness, but a friend whose feelings were almost maternal. The old Princess set her heart on making me intimate with her daughter Madame d’Espard, with the Duchesse de Langeais, the Vicomtesse de Beauséant, and the Duchesse de Maufrigneuse—women who, by turns, held the sceptre of fashion, and who were all the more gracious to me because I made no claims upon them, and was always ready to be of service to them.
My brother Charles, far from ignoring me, thenceforth relied on my support; but my rapid success was the cause of some secret jealousy, which at a later period gave me much annoyance. My father and mother, amazed by such unexpected good fortune, felt their vanity flattered, and at last recognized me as their son; but as the sentiment was to some extent artificial, not to say acted, this revulsion had not much effect on my ulcerated heart. Besides, affection that is tainted with selfishness excites little sympathy; the heart abhors every form of calculation and profit.
I wrote regularly to my dear Henriette, who answered me in a letter or two each month. Thus her spirit hovered over me, her thoughts traversed space and kept a pure atmosphere about me. No woman could attract me. The King knew of my reserve; in such matters he was of the school of Louis XV, and used to laugh and call me “Mademoiselle de Vandenesse,” but the propriety of my conduct was very much approved by him. I am quite sure that the patience which had become a habit during my childhood, and yet more at Clochegourde, did much to win me the King’s good graces; he was always most kind to me. He no doubt indulged a fancy for reading my letters, for he was not long under any mistake as to my blameless life. One day when the Duke was in attendance I was writing from the King’s dictation, and he, seeing the Duke come in, looked mischievously at us both.
“Well, that confounded fellow Mortsauf still persists in living on?” said he, in
