Chapter LXXIV: Letter LXIII: LIVRI, Wednesday Evening, July 24, 1677

Love Paulina, love Paulina, my child! indulge yourself in that amusement; do not destroy your peace of mind by depriving yourself of her; what are you afraid of? You may still send her to a convent for a few years, when you think it necessary. Enjoy maternal affection for a while; it is exquisite when it springs from the heart, and the choice falls upon an amiable object. Dear Paulina! methinks I see her here; she will resemble you, notwithstanding she bears the mark of the workman. It is true, this nose is a strange affair; but it will improve, and I will answer for it, she will be handsome.

Madame de Vins is still here; she is now in my closet, engaged in conversation with D’Hacqueville and my son. His heel is still so bad that he may perhaps go to Bourbon when I go to Vichi. Be under no concern about this journey; and since it is not the will of Heaven that I should enjoy the charms of your society, we must yield obedience to his will; it is a bitter evil, but it must be endured; we are the weakest, and to attempt resistance is vain. I should be too happy if your friendship was clothed in all its realities; it is still extremely dear to me, though divested of the charms and pleasures which your presence and company bestow upon it. My son and I will answer all you have said on the subject of epic poetry. The contempt I know he has for Eneas, makes me apprehensive he will be of your opinion. Yet all the great wits have a taste for every thing written by the ancients.