Well! I do not possess true sensibility, because I am neither sickle, unreasonable, peevish, nor spiteful; because I place implicit faith in you; and you, my dear friend, because you pout without occasion, an scold without reason, it is you only that know how to love – this is a fine description of friendship. But since caprice is one of your proofs of sensibility, I ought not to flatter myself with being your only friend; for surely you lavish that testimony on many. It is thus, that we often attribute to the strength of our sensibility and passions, faults which proceed only from our dispositions. I never saw a lover, who was always jealous without reason, that was not naturally suspicious in mixed society. Friendship occasions no caprices; but you are a proof that it does not cure them. Trust me, we had best have done with this quarrel, and love one another as we are, relinquishing the hope of a mutual reformation. We are born never to resemble each other, but always to agree.

So you are going to attach yourself to Madame de M—. I am curious to know, what impressions a society so different from what you have always lived in, will produce on you: but I beg you will not give me any account till after the third or fourth visit, that your opinion may be fixed.

Let us now talk of Constantia. Without doubt, by bringing her up piously, you secure the happiness of both. But it appears to me that the means you employ, are absolutely contrary to the end you propose. In all education, let us first remember to what kind of life the child is destined. Your daughter is born to shine in the great world, at Paris, and at court. When she is eighteen and her own mistress, do you think it will be possible for her to go every day to mass, to confess every three months, and to live in retirement all Lent?