I had flattered
myself with having obtained your confidence, but
the obstinate silence which you have kept with me
has cruelly informed me of my mistake. Allow the
deep interest with which you have inspired me to
offer a suggestion. You know nothing of forms, you
are unacquainted with our usages: you require a friend
who shall direct and counsel you. Why should you not
select a man entirely devoted to you, and as equally
so to the king, the king whose affections you possess--and
who could refuse them to you? I pause. Nothing is more
dangerous than to use a pen where we have a heart
overflowing like mine. Be more gracious towards
me, I ask it of you in charity, and take no pleasure
in driving me to twofold desperation. Adieu,
madame, etc.
"Signed, the Duc D'A."
I read and read again this epistle: it delighted me from beginning
to end. I found in it a depth of passion which did not displease
me: I perfectly comprehended the obscurity of the latter phrase.
I needed a sort of mentor superior to comte Jean, and I preferred
the duc d'Aiguillon to any other, because he pleased me. This
feeling decided me, and I replied to him in these terms:--
"You are wrong, monsieur, to be annoyed, and to think
that I am not disposed to grant you my confidence. It
seems to me that I cannot place myself in better hands.
However, we do not know each other well enough for
me to repose in you at once: see me frequently, and
then, with the habit of being in your company, I will
allow myself to glide quietly into that state of
confidence which you desire.
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