Iam vexed and out of humour, my dear friend. For some days past, little quarrels and domestick concerns have seriously troubled me, and I am going to ease my mind by telling you of them. Mons. de Valcy had hitherto conducted himself intirely to my satisfaction. He appeared very fond of his wife, but, at the same time, left her quite at liberty, and nobody ever appeared to be more free from jealousy, or a greater enemy to restraint; than he was. Last Monday my daughter was engaged to a ball; her mother-in-law came to call for her; Flora was in her bed; she pretended to have the head-ache; the party to the ball was put off. As soon as I heard of this sudden resolution, I went into her apartment, but, before I had entered it, I heard such loud and repeated bursts of laughter as fully satisfied me that I had nothing to fear on account of her illness. I found her alone, with the friend I mentioned to you, Madame de Germeuil. As soon as they saw me, they both assumed an air of gravity, and there was a profound silence, for a minute or two, occasioned by their confusion; I began to inquire after her health, and my daughter told me she was perfectly well, but very much disappointed at not going to the ball; that it was a whim of Mons. de Valcy's, who had obliged her to put off her engagement. I asked her what was his reason? Ah, my God! said she smiling, do not you know his strange humour and his violent jealousy? … I have tried to conceal it, said she, assuming, as long as I was able, a more serious countenance; but the proofs he gives of it are now so ridiculous and so frequent, that it is impossible to hide it any longer.