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 had
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; but, 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 whom I had to do, I might take my measures accordingly.
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