This was the first moment in which I was sensible of the shame of feeling myself humbled by the sentiment of my fault, in presence of a young woman of whose just reproaches I approved, and to whom I ought to have been a mentor.  The indignation I felt against myself would, perhaps, have been sufficient to overcome my weakness, had not the tender passion inspired me by the victim of it, again softened my heart.  Alas! was this a moment to harden it when it was overflowed by the tears which penetrated it in every part?  This tenderness was soon changed into rage against the vile informers, who had seen nothing but the evil of a criminal but involuntary sentiment, without believing or even imagining the sincere uprightness of heart by which it was counteracted.  We did not remain long in doubt about the hand by which the blow was directed.

We both knew that Madam d’Epinay corresponded with St. Lambert.  This was not the first storm she had raised up against Madam d’Houdetot, from whom she had made a thousand efforts to detach her lover, the success of some of which made the consequences to be dreaded.  Besides, Grimm, who, I think, had accompanied M. de Castries to the army, was in Westphalia, as well as Saint Lambert; they sometimes visited.  Grimm had made some attempts on Madam d’Houdetot, which had not succeeded, and being extremely piqued, suddenly discontinued his visits to her.  Let it be judged with what calmness, modest as he is known to be, he supposed she preferred to him a man older than himself, and of whom, since he had frequented the great, he had never spoken but as a person whom he patronized.

My suspicions of Madam d’Epinay were changed into a certainty the moment I heard what had passed in my own house.  When I was at the Chevrette, Theresa frequently came there, either to bring me letters or to pay me that attention which my ill state of health rendered necessary.  Madam d’Epinay had asked her if Madam d’Houdetot and I did not write to each other.  Upon her answering in the affirmative, Madam d’Epinay pressed her 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