to give her the letters of Madam d'Houdetot, assuring her that she would
reseal them in such a manner as it should never be known. Theresa,
without showing how much she was shocked at the proposition, and without
even putting me upon my guard, did nothing more than seal the letters she
brought me more carefully; a lucky precaution, for Madam d'Epinay had her
watched when she arrived, and, waiting for her in the passage, several
times carried her audaciousness as far as to examine her tucker. She did
more even than this: having one day invited herself with M. de Margency
to dinner at the Hermitage, for the first time since I resided there,
she seized the moment I was walking with Margency to go into my closet
with the mother and daughter, and to press them to show her the letters
of Madam d'Houdetot. Had the mother known where the letters were, they
would have been given to her; fortunately, the daughter was the only
person who was in the secret, and denied my having preserved any one of
them. A virtuous, faithful and generous falsehood; whilst truth would
have been a perfidy. Madam d' Epinay, perceiving Theresa was not to be
seduced, endeavored to irritate her by jealousy, reproaching her with her
easy temper and blindness. "How is it possible," said she to her, "you
cannot perceive there is a criminal intercourse between them? If besides
what strikes your eyes you stand in need of other proofs, lend your
assistance to obtain that which may furnish them; you say he tears the
letters from Madam d'Houdetot as soon as he has read them. Well,
carefully gather up the pieces and give them to me; I will take upon
myself to put them together."

Such were the lessons my friend gave to the partner of my bed.

Theresa had the discretion to conceal from me, for a considerable time,
all these attempts; but perceiving how much I was perplexed, she thought
herself obliged to inform me of everything, to the end that knowing with