When we see a lover, although he may be persuaded of our gratitude, treat us with the consideration demanded by our vanity, we shall conclude without being aware of it, that he will always be the same, although sure of our inclination for him.  From that moment, what confidence will he not inspire?  What flattering progress may he not make?  But if he notifies us to be always on our guard, then it is not our hearts we shall defend; it will not be a battle to preserve our virtue, but our pride; and that is the worst enemy to be conquered in women.  What more is there to tell you?  We are continually struggling to hide the fact that we have permitted ourselves to be loved.  Put a woman in a position to say that she has yielded only to a species of violence, or to surprise; persuade her that you do not undervalue her, and I will answer for her heart.

You must manage the Countess as her character requires; she is lively, and playful, and by trifling follies you must lead her to love.  Do not even let her see that she distinguishes you from other men, and be as playful as she is light hearted.  Fix yourself in her heart without giving her any warning of your intention.  She will love you without knowing it, and some day she will be very much astonished at having made so much headway without really suspecting it.

XVII

Women Understand the Difference Between Real Love and Flirtation

Perhaps, Marquis, you will think me still more cruel than the Countess.  She is the cause of your anxieties, it is true, but I am the cause of something worse; I feel a great desire to laugh at them.  Oh, I enter into your troubles seriously enough, I can not do more, and your embarrassment appears great to me.  Really, why risk a declaration of love to a woman who takes a wicked pleasure in avoiding it on every occasion?  Now, she appears affected, and then again, she is the most unmindful woman in the world in spite of all you do to please her.  She listens willingly and replies gaily to the gallant speeches and bold conversation of a certain Chevalier, a professional coxcomb, but to you she speaks seriously and with a preoccupied air.  If you take on a tender and affectionate tone, she replies flippantly, or perhaps changes the subject.  All this intimidates you, troubles you, and drives you to despair.  Poor Marquis!—­and I answer you, that all this is love, true and beautiful.  The absence of mind which she affects with you, the nonchalance she puts on for a mask, ought to make you feel at heart that she is far from being indifferent.  But your lack of boldness, the consequences which she feels must follow such a passion as yours, the interest which she already takes in your condition, all this intimidates the countess herself, and it is you who raise obstacles in her path.  A little more boldness on your part would put you both at your ease.  Do you remember what M. de la Rochefoucauld told you lately:  “A reasonable man in love may act like a madman, but he should not and can not act like an idiot.”