and
maintain that nothing of this had come to her knowledge? These were her
words from which she would never depart. Not four days before she
herself had recited to me all the particulars Theresa had just stated,
and in presence of my friend she contradicted me to my face. This, to
me, was decisive, and I then clearly saw my imprudence in having so long
a time kept such a woman near me. I made no use of invective; I scarcely
deigned to speak to her a few words of contempt. I felt what I owed to
the daughter, whose steadfast uprightness was a perfect contrast to the
base monoeuvres of the mother. But from the instant my resolution was
taken relative to the old woman, and I waited for nothing but the moment
to put it into execution.
This presented itself sooner than I expected. On the 10th of December I
received from Madam d'Epinay the following answer to my preceding letter:
GENEVA, 1st December, 1757.
"After having for several years given you every possible mark of
friendship all I can now do is to pity you. You are very unhappy. I
wish your conscience may be as calm as mine. This may be necessary to
the repose of your whole life.
"Since you are determined to quit the Hermitage, and are persuaded that
you ought to do it, I am astonished your friends have prevailed upon you
to stay there. For my part I never consult mine upon my duty, and I have
nothing further to say to you upon your own."
Such an unforeseen dismission, and so fully pronounced, left me not a
moment to hesitate. It was necessary to quit immediately, let the
weather and my health be in what state they might, although I were to
sleep in the woods and upon the snow, with which the ground was then
covered, and in defiance of everything Madam d'Houdetot might say; for I
was willing to do everything to please her except render myself infamous.
I never had been so embarrassed in my whole life as I then was; but my
resolution was taken. I swore, let what would happen, not to sleep at
the Hermitage on the night of that day week. I began to prepare for
sending away my effects, resolving to leave them in the open field rather
than not give up the key in the course of the week: for I was determined
everything should be done before a letter could be written to Geneva, and
an answer to it received. I never felt myself so inspired with courage:
I had recovered all my strength. Honor and indignation, upon wh
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