Madame de Volanges _to_ Madame de Rosemonde.
The journal will inform you much better than I can, my dear friend, the
melancholy state of our patient. Totally employed in my attendance on
her, I have scarce time to write to you, as there are other matters to
be attended to as well as her disorder. Here is a specimen of one which
most certainly I did not in the least expect. I have received a letter
from M. de Valmont, who has been pleased to choose me for a confidant,
and even his mediatrix with Madame de Tourvel, to whom he wrote under
my cover. I returned the one when I answered the other. I transmit you
my answer; and I believe you will be of my opinion, that I neither
could or ought to have any thing to do with what he requests. Had I
been even inclined to it, our unhappy friend was unable to understand
me. Her frenzy is incessant. But what do you think of M. de Valmont’s
distraction? Is it real, or does he mean to deceive the world to the
last?[1]
If he is sincere this time, he may well say, he has made himself happy.
I believe he will not be well pleased with my answer: but, I own, every
thing that fixes my attention on this unhappy adventure, raises my
resentment more and more against the author of it.
Adieu, my dear friend! I must return to my melancholy employment,
which becomes more so, by the small prospect there is of success. I
need not repeat my sentiments for you.
_Paris, Dec._ 5, 17—.
[1] Nothing having appeared in this correspondence that could resolve
this doubt, we chose to suppress Valmont’s letter.