d that she seemed
to be my well-wisher. She was fond of walking with me; we were both good
walkers, and the conversation between us was inexhaustible. However, I
never went to see her in Paris, although she had several times requested
and solicited me to do it. Her connections with M. de St. Lambert, with
whom I began to be intimate, rendered her more interesting to me, and it
was to bring me some account of that friend who was, I believe, then at
Mahon, that she came to see me at the Hermitage.

This visit had something of the appearance of the beginning of a romance.
She lost her way. Her coachman, quitting the road, which turned to the
right, attempted to cross straight over from the mill of Clairvaux to the
Hermitage: her carriage stuck in a quagmire in the bottom of the valley,
and she got out and walked the rest of the road. Her delicate shoes were
soon worn through; she sunk into the dirt, her servants had the greatest
difficulty in extricating her, and she at length arrived at the Hermitage
in boots, making the place resound with her laughter, in which I most
heartily joined. She had to change everything. Theresa provided her
with what was necessary, and I prevailed upon her to forget her dignity
and partake of a rustic collation, with which she seemed highly
satisfied. It was late, and her stay was short; but the interview was so
mirthful that it pleased her, and she seemed disposed to return. She did
not however put this project into execution until the next year: but,
alas! the delay was not favorable to me in anything.

I passed the autumn in an employment no person would suspect me of
undertaking: this was guarding the fruit of M. d'Epinay. The Hermitage
was the reservoir of the waters of the park of the Chevrette; there was a
garden walled round and planted with espaliers and other trees, which
produced M. d'Epinay more fruit than his kitchen-garden at the Chevrette,
although three-fourths of it were stolen from him. That I might not be a
guest entirely useless, I took upon myself the direction of the garden
and the inspection of the conduct of the gardener. Everything went on
well until the fruit season, but as this became ripe, I observed that it
disappeared without knowing in what manner it was disposed of. The
gardener assured me it was the dormice which eat it all. I destroyed a
great number of these animals, notwithstanding which the fruit still
diminished. I watched the gardener's mo