Observe, always when she mentions you, it is M. de Valmont; all her ideas, even those you raise, terminate in Danceny; she does not call him Monsieur, but plain Danceny.
Thus she distinguishes him from all others: and even giving herself up to you, she familiarises herself only with him.
If such a conquest has any thing bewitching, if the pleasures you receive are so attaching, you are certainly modest, and not difficult to please.
Keep her; I agree to it; it is even a part of my scheme: but I really think it should not discompose you in the least. You should also have some ascendant over her, and not suffer her to draw near Danceny, until he is a little worn out of her memory.
Before I think of your coming to me, I must tell you this pretended sickness is an exploded common trick.
On my word, Viscount, you lack invention!
I am also guilty of repetitions sometimes, as you shall hear: but I endeavour to amuse by the circumstances; and success justifies me.
I am going to attempt another adventure.
I will agree, it has not the merit of difficulty; but it will be a distraction at least, for time lies very heavy on my hands.
I cannot account for the reason, but since Prevan's affair, Belleroche is become insupportable to me.
He has redoubled his attention, tenderness, and veneration, to so violent a degree, I can hold out no longer.
His wrath at the time was pleasant enough; but it was necessary to check it, otherwise I must have committed myself; there was no making him listen to reason.
I resolved to show him more affection, to bring him round more easily; he has taken it so seriously, that ever since he puts me out of all patience with his eternal charms.
I moreover take notice of his insulting confidence, for he really looks on me as his property.
I am really humbled.
He holds me cheap, indeed, if he thinks himself capable of fixing me.
He had the assurance to tell me lately, I never should have loved any other but him.
Then, indeed, I lost all patience, and was obliged to call my prudence in aid, not to undeceive him instantly, by telling how matters stood.
He is certainly a pretty fellow, to aspire to an exclusive right!
I will allow, he is well made, and a tolerable person: but take him all in all, he is only a man?uverer in love.
The time is come, we must part.
I have endeavoured at it this fortnight past. I have, by turns, treated him with coolness, capriciousness, bad humour, quarrelled even; all in vain: the tenacious creature will not quit his hold.
I must, then, use some violence; for this purpose I take him with me to the country.
We set out the day after to-morrow.
We shall only have some people of no consequence, and not very discerning, and shall be almost as much at liberty as if we were alone.
There I shall so overload him with love and fondness, we shall so live for each other only, that he will wish to see the end of this journey, which is now his greatest bliss, more than I shall; and if he does not return more tired of me than I shall be of him, I consent you may say, you know more of the matter than I do.
The pretence for this retreat is, I want seriously to employ my time in preparing for my great law suit, that is to be decided the beginning of winter, which pleases me much; for it is really very disagreeable to have one's fortune in suspense.
Not that I am uneasy about the issue; for, first, I have right on my side, as all my lawyers assure me;—if it even was not the case, I should be very unskilful, indeed, if I could not gain a suit against minors of tender years, and their old guardian: however, as nothing must be omitted in a business of such consequence, I shall have two lawyers with me.
Will not this be a sprightly jaunt?
If I gain my cause, and lose Belleroche, I shall not regret the time.
Now, Viscount, I will give you a hundred guesses before you name his successor; I forget though, you never guess any thing—Why, Danceny.
You are astonished; for I am not yet reduced to the education of children.
This one, however, deserves an exception in his favour. He has the graces of youth, but not its frivolousness.
His reserve in a circle is well adapted to banish all manner of suspicion, and he is the more amiable when in a tete-a-tete; not that I yet have had one with him on my own account.
I am only his confidant: but under this mask of friendship, I think I see a strong inclination for me, and I already feel a violent one for him.
It would be pity so much wit and delicacy should be sacrificed and stupified with that little idiot Volanges.
I hope he deceives himself in thinking he loves her; she is so far from deserving him.
Not that I have the least tincture of jealousy: but it would be murder; and I wish to save Danceny.
I therefore beg, Viscount, you will use your endeavours that he may not come near his Cecilia, as he has got the disagreeable custom of calling her.
A first liking has always an inconceivable power. If he was now to see her, I could not be certain of any thing, especially during my absence.
At my return, I shall take every thing on myself, and will answer for the success.
I had some notion of taking the young man with me; but sacrificed my inclination to my usual prudence: moreover, I mould have been apprehensive he might make some observations on Belleroche and me; an idea even of such a thing would distract me; as I wish to offer myself immaculate to his imagination: such as one should be to be worthy of him.
Paris, Oct. 15, 17—. _____
LETTER CXIV.
The Presidente DE TOURVEL to MADAME DE ROSEMONDE. _____
My dear friend, my uneasiness for the state of your health is so great, I cannot forbear writing to you. Without knowing whether you will be able to answer me, I cannot avoid interrogating you.
M. de Valmont's state, which you tell me is not dangerous, does not, however, dispel my apprehensions so much as it does yours.
It is no novelty that melancholy and distaste for company should be symptoms of an approaching disease; bodily disorders, as well as those of the mind, incline us to solitude; and we often load those with ill temper, whose disorder we ought to compassionate.
I think he ought, at least, consult with some one.
How happens it, that being yourself indisposed, you have not a physician?