Cecilia Volanges _to_ Sophia Carnay.
It is certain, Sophy, that I told you, one might in some cases write to
an admirer; and I assure you, I am very angry with myself for having
followed your advice, which has been the cause of so much uneasiness
to the Chevalier Danceny and me; and what proves I was right, is, that
Madame de Merteuil, who is a woman that ought to know those things
perfectly, has at length come to think as I do. I owned every thing to
her: at first she thought as you did; but when I had explained every
thing to her, she was sensible it was a different case: she requires
only that I should show her all my letters, and those of Chevalier
Danceny, to be certain I should say nothing but what I ought; so now I
am pretty easy. Lord! how I do love Madame de Merteuil; she is a good
woman, and a very respectable one; so that her advice may be safely
followed. Oh! how I shall write to M. Danceny, and how well satisfied
he’ll be; he will be more so than he thinks; for, till now, I only
mentioned friendship to him, and he wanted me always to call it love.
I believe it was pretty much the same; but I was afraid—that was the
fact. I told Madame de Merteuil of it; she told me I was in the right;
and that an avowal of love ought only to be made when one could no
longer help it: now I’m sure I cannot help it much longer; after all,
it is all one, and it will please him most.
Madame de Merteuil told me also, that she would lend me some books,
which treat that subject very fully, and would teach me how to conduct
myself, and also to write better than I do: for she tells me all my
faults, and that is a proof she loves me; she charged me only to say
nothing to Mamma of those books, because it would look as if she had
neglected my education, and that might displease her. I will engage I
shall say nothing of it.
It is, however, very extraordinary, that a woman, who is but a very
distant relation, should take more care of me than my mother! I am very
happy to be acquainted with her.
She has asked my Mamma leave to take me to the opera, to her own box,
the day after to-morrow; she told me we should be by ourselves, and
would chat all the while, without danger of being overheard.—I like
that a great deal better than the opera. My marriage will be, in part,
the subject of our conversation, I hope; for she told me it was very
certain I was to be married; but we had not an opportunity to say any
more. Is it not very strange Mamma says nothing at all to me about it.
Adieu, my dear Sophy; I am going to write to Chevalier Danceny. I am
quite happy.
_Aug._ 24, 17—.