This letter made my heart beat violently; after having for a year past
been the subject of conversation of all Paris, the idea of presenting
myself as a spectacle before Madam d'Houdetot, made me tremble, and I had
much difficulty to find sufficient courage to support that ceremony.
Yet as she and Saint Lambert were desirous of it, and Madam d'Epinay
spoke in the name of her guests without naming one whom I should not be
glad to see, I did not think I should expose myself accepting a dinner to
which I was in some degree invited by all the persons who with myself
were to partake of it. I therefore promised to go: on Sunday the weather
was bad, and Madam D'Epinay sent me her carriage.

My arrival caused a sensation. I never met a better reception. An
observer would have thought the whole company felt how much I stood in
need of encouragement. None but French hearts are susceptible of this
kind of delicacy. However, I found more people than I expected to see.
Amongst others the Comte d' Houdetot, whom I did not know, and his sister
Madam de Blainville, without whose company I should have been as well
pleased. She had the year before came several times to Eaubonne, and her
sister-in-law had left her in our solitary walks to wait until she
thought proper to suffer her to join us. She had harbored a resentment
against me, which during this dinner she gratified at her ease. The
presence of the Comte d' Houdetot and Saint Lambert did not give me the
laugh on my side, and it may be judged that a man embarrassed in the most
common conversations was not very brilliant in that which then took
place. I never suffered so much, appeared so awkward, or received more
unexpected mortifications. As soon as we had risen from table, I
withdrew from that wicked woman; I had the pleasure of seeing Saint
Lambert and Madam de'Houdetot approach me, and we conversed together a
part of the afternoon, upon things very indifferent it is true, but with
the same familiarity as before my involuntary error. This friendly
attention was not lost upon my heart, and could Saint Lambert have read
what passed there, he certainly would have been satisfied with it. I can
safely assert that although on my arrival the presence of Madam
d'Houdetot gave me the most violent palpitations, on returning from the
house I scarcely thought of her; my mind was entirely taken up with Saint
Lambert.

Notwithstanding the malignant sarcasms of Madam de Blainville