ome of us poor women in a state
of society such as Louis XVIII.'s charter made it?'--(Imagine how her
words had run away with her.)--'Yes, indeed, we are born to suffer. In
matters of passion we are always superior to you, and you are beneath
all loyalty. There is no honesty in your hearts. To you love is a
game in which you always cheat.'--'My dear,' said I, 'to take anything
serious in society nowadays would be like making romantic love to
an actress.'--'What a shameless betrayal! It was deliberately
planned!'--'No, only a rational issue.'--'Good-bye, Monsieur de Marsay,'
said she; 'you have deceived me horribly.'--'Surely,' I replied,
taking up a submissive attitude, 'Madame la Duchesse will not remember
Charlotte's grievances?'--'Certainly,' she answered bitterly.--'Then,
in fact, you hate me?'--She bowed, and I said to myself, 'There is
something still left!'

"The feeling she had when I parted from her allowed her to believe that
she still had something to avenge. Well, my friends, I have carefully
studied the lives of men who have had great success with women, but I
do not believe that the Marechal de Richelieu, or Lauzun, or Louis de
Valois ever effected a more judicious retreat at the first attempt. As
to my mind and heart, they were cast in a mould then and there, once
for all, and the power of control I thus acquired over the thoughtless
impulses which make us commit so many follies gained me the admirable
presence of mind you all know."

"How deeply I pity the second!" exclaimed the Baronne de Nucingen.

A scarcely perceptible smile on de Marsay's pale lips made Delphine de
Nucingen color.

"How we do forget!" said the Baron de Nucingen.

The great banker's simplicity was so extremely droll, that his wife, who
was de Marsay's "second," could not help laughing like every one else.

"You are all ready to condemn the woman," said Lady Dudley. "Well,
I quite understand that she did not regard her marriage as an act
of inconstancy. Men will never distinguish between constancy and
fidelity.--I know the woman whose story Monsieur de Marsay has told us,
and she is one of the last of your truly great ladies."

"Alas! my lady, you are right," replied de Marsay. "For very nearly
fifty years we have been looking on at the progressive ruin of all
social distinctions. We ought to have saved our women from this great
wreck, but the Civil Code has swept its leveling influence over their
heads. However terrible the w