At length, my dear daughter, I am acquainted with Charles's sentiments. His ‘secret’ is no longer such to me; and assuredly your surprise will be as great as mine at the unexpected avowal. You was informed of the real motive for my journey into Picardy. I was desirous of separating him from Madame de Valcy for a short time, flattering myself, that the necessity of talking of her would induce him to lay open his heart to me; but my hopes deceived me. Charles, melancholy and thoughtful, sought solitude, avoided me, and, for the first time in his life, seemed to fear being alone with me. Walking with him one day alone, I began talking of Madame de Valcy, and I mentioned her with contempt. Charles did not betray the least emotion. So profound a dissimulation afflicted, as much as it surprised me: but wishing to see to what a length he would carry it, I resolved to urge him no farther; and returned to Paris without having obtained the confidence I so anxiously desired. The day after our arrival, that is last Monday, we waited on Madame d' Almane; and there it was Charles betrayed himself intirely. She shewed us a picture of Madame de Valcy, painted by Madame d' Ostalis. His confusion at the sight of this picture was so visible, that it certainly could not escape the penetrating eyes of Madame d' Almane. I felt the necessity of an immediate explanation. I went into Charles's room the next morning, as he was rising; I sent away his attendants, and sat down by his bed-side. 'Charles, says I, it is time to break a silence which afflicts and distresses me. As your governor and your father, I come to demand a secret, which I could not obtain as your friend. It is no longer a confidence I require; you have lost the opportunity of bestowing that. I have, in spite of you, read your heart: now at least I expect sincerity.