ny of
his.

However prejudiced I was in favor of this man by former sentiments, which
were not extinguished, and by the real merit he had, all was not proof
against the cares he took to destroy it. He received me like the Comte
de Tuffiere; he scarcely deigned to return my salute; he never once spoke
to me, and prevented my speaking to him by not making me any answer; he
everywhere passed first, and took the first place without ever paying me
the least attention. All this would have been supportable had he not
accompanied it with a shocking affectation, which may be judged of by one
example taken from a hundred. One evening Madam d'Epinay, finding
herself a little indisposed, ordered something for her supper to be
carried into her chamber, and went up stairs to sup by the side of the
fire. She asked me to go with her, which I did. Grimm came afterwards.
The little table was already placed, and there were but two covers.
Supper was served; Madam d' Epinay took her place on one side of the
fire, Grimm took an armed chair, seated himself at the other, drew the
little table between them, opened his napkin, and prepared himself for
eating without speaking to me a single word.

Madam d' Epinay blushed at his behavior, and, to induce him to repair his
rudeness, offered me her place. He said nothing, nor did he ever look at
me. Not being able to approach the fire, I walked about the chamber
until a cover was brought. Indisposed as I was, older than himself,
longer acquainted in the house than he had been, the person who had
introduced him there, and to whom as a favorite of the lady he ought to
have done the honors of it, he suffered me to sup at the end of the
table, at a distance from the fire, without showing me the least
civility. His whole behavior to me corresponded with this example of it.
He did not treat me precisely as his inferior, but he looked upon me as a
cipher. I could scarcely recognize the same Grimm, who, to the house of
the Prince de Saxe-Gotha, thought himself honored when I cast my eyes
upon him. I had still more difficulty in reconciling this profound
silence and insulting haughtiness with the tender friendship he possessed
for me to those whom he knew to be real friends. It is true the only
proofs he gave of it was pitying my wretched fortune, of which I did not
complain; compassionating my sad fate, with which I was satisfied; and
lamenting to see me obstinately refuse the benevolent servic