revenge; but his generosity
never permitted him to exercise them; except between ourselves.

After his return to the army, I found Madam d'Houdetot greatly changed in
her manner with me. At this I was as much surprised as if it had not
been what I ought to have expected; it affected me more than it ought to
have done, and did me considerable harm. It seemed that everything from
which I expected a cure, still plunged deeper into my heart the dart,
which I at length broke in rather than draw out.

I was quite determined to conquer myself, and leave no means untried to
change my foolish passion into a pure and lasting friendship. For this
purpose I had formed the finest projects in the world; for the execution
of which the concurrence of Madam d' Houdetot was necessary. When I
wished to speak to her I found her absent and embarrassed; I perceived I
was no longer agreeable to her, and that something had passed which she
would not communicate to me, and which I have never yet known. This
change, and the impossibility of knowing the reason of it, grieved me to
the heart.

She asked me for her letters; these I returned her with a fidelity of
which she did me the insult to doubt for a moment.

This doubt was another wound given to my heart, with which she must have
been so well acquainted. She did me justice, but not immediately: I
understood that an examination of the packet I had sent her, made her
perceive her error; I saw she reproached herself with it, by which I was
a gainer of something. She could not take back her letters without
returning me mine. She told me she had burnt them: of this I dared to
doubt in my turn, and I confess I doubt of it at this moment. No, such
letters as mine to her were, are never thrown into the fire. Those of
Eloisa have been found ardent.

Heavens! what would have been said of these! No, No, she who can
inspire a like passion, will never have the courage to burn the proofs of
it. But I am not afraid of her having made a bad use of them: of this I
do not think her capable; and besides I had taken proper measures to
prevent it. The foolish, but strong apprehension of raillery, had made
me begin this correspondence in a manner to secure my letters from all
communication. I carried the familiarity I permitted myself with her in
my intoxication so far as to speak to her in the singular number: but
what theeing and thouing! she certainly could not be offended with it.
Yet she