V
[Coste writes twice to complain of her silence.]
TO MADEMOISELLE SUSON DE BRUN, AT AMSTERDAM
Mademoiselle,—I see that in friendship as in love (the two passions are much akin), who loses pays. For the last six months you have been promising to answer my last letter, and, now I am beginning to despair of seeing the wished-for answer, you tell me, "Could you not, Monsieur, write to me sometimes without exacting an answer...." You know too well the price of your letters not to lavish them upon me. You will not have them match my own in number.... I was charmed with your letter, I cannot keep silence about it, I read it over many times and shall read it again....
Your artless compliment upon the New Year, went home. It quite moved me. I am very glad to see that my tastes quite agree with your own. That makes me believe I am reasonable. I have no ambition, and if I had, I should be incapable of satisfying it. I am very little encumbered with money and in no condition to amass much, however that may be necessary to the regard of the world. When I dwell on all that, I sometimes fancy it would be as well for me to leave this world quickly, as to linger on in an everlasting circle of toilsome vain occupations, but coming soon after to think that I have a few good friends in this world, I say to myself, that it is worth while living to enjoy so sweet a pleasure.—Coste.