h so had she
loved me instead of him; and without wishing to disturb their union, all
I really desired of her was to permit herself to be loved. Finally,
however violent my passion may have been for this lady, I found it as
agreeable to be the confidant, as the object of her amours, and I never
for a moment considered her lover as a rival, but always as my friend.
It will be said this was not love: be it so, but it was something more.

As for Saint Lambert, he behaved like an honest and judicious man: as I
was the only person culpable, so was I the only one who was punished;
this, however, was with the greatest indulgence. He treated me severely,
but in a friendly manner, and I perceived I had lost something in his
esteem, but not the least part of his friendship. For this I consoled
myself, knowing it would be much more easy to me to recover the one than
the other, and that he had too much sense to confound an involuntary
weakness and a passion with a vice of character. If even I were in fault
in all that had passed, I was but very little so. Had I first sought
after his mistress? Had not he himself sent her to me? Did not she come
in search of me? Could I avoid receiving her? What could I do? They
themselves had done the evil, and I was the person on whom it fell. In
my situation they would have done as much as I did, and perhaps more;
for, however estimable and faithful Madam d'Houdetot might be, she was
still a woman; her lover was absent; opportunities were frequent;
temptations strong; and it would have been very difficult for her always
to have defended herself with the same success against a more
enterprising man. We certainly had done a great deal in our situation,
in placing boundaries beyond which we never permitted ourselves to pass.

Although at the bottom of my heart I found evidence sufficiently
honorable in my favor, so many appearances were against me, that the
invincible shame always predominant in me, gave me in his presence the
appearance of guilt, and of this he took advantage for the purpose of
humbling me: a single circumstance will describe this reciprocal
situation. I read to him, after dinner, the letter I had written the
preceding year to Voltaire, and of which Saint Lambert had heard speak.
Whilst I was reading he fell asleep, and I, lately so haughty, at present
so foolish, dared not stop, and continued to read whilst he continued to
snore. Such were my indignities and such his