genuine affection certainly brings a thousand times more happiness
than the transient passions we may inspire.--Well, I came here on
purpose to preach to you; yes, you are the cause of my appearance in
this house, which stinks of the lower class. Have I not just seen
actors here? Formerly, my dear, we received them in our boudoir; but
in the drawing-room--never!--Why do you look at me with so much
amazement? Listen to me. If you want to play with men, do not try to
wring the hearts of any but those whose life is not yet settled, who
have no duties to fulfil; the others do not forgive us for the errors
that have made them happy. Profit by this maxim, founded on my long
experience.--That luckless Soulanges, for instance, whose head you
have turned, whom you have intoxicated for these fifteen months past,
God knows how! Do you know at what you have struck?--At his whole
life. He has been married these two years; he is worshiped by a
charming wife, whom he loves, but neglects; she lives in tears and
embittered silence. Soulanges has had hours of remorse more terrible
than his pleasure has been sweet. And you, you artful little thing,
have deserted him.--Well, come and see your work."

The old lady took Madame de Vaudremont's hand, and they rose.

"There," said Madame de Lansac, and her eyes showed her the stranger,
sitting pale and tremulous under the glare of the candles, "that is my
grandniece, the Comtesse de Soulanges; to-day she yielded at last to
my persuasion, and consented to leave the sorrowful room, where the
sight of her child gives her but little consolation. You see her? You
think her charming? Then imagine, dear Beauty, what she must have been
when happiness and love shed their glory on that face now blighted."

The Countess looked away in silence, and seemed lost in sad