"In the first place, I do not despise men," said I, "for a very simple reason; I am no better nor worse than another, and I have often had a mental struggle to decide one of those questions which prove a man's honesty, or show that he is a scoundrel." "Well?" said the count. "Well, as I have always been very severe in my self-examinations, I have often doubted my own motives more than those of other people; thus, being no better than other men, I cannot despise them. As for women, as I know no more about them than you do, it is impossible for me to give any opinion on the subject." "No more than I?" said De Cernay, who was evidently displeased. "I know nothing about women?" "Neither you, nor I, nor any one can say that he perfectly understands women," said I, with a smile. "What man is there who even knows himself? Where is one who knows how he would act under any conceivable circumstances? How much less, then, could he pretend to understand not women, but a single woman, even were she his mother, his mistress, or his sister? Of course, I do not discuss this subject with every one, nor am I expected to go through such a catechism, which would be about as reasonable as a manual for learning to speak a language, in which every conceivable question is given with its proper answer." "In that you are quite right," said the count; "but stop, I am delighted at a chance of making you contradict yourself. I am going to do you a kindness: you would like to know Madame de Pënâfiel; some one, either I or another, will have to present you to her." "Nothing could be more amiable," said I, "and though I am a bankrupt in friendship, I certainly would find some means of requiting such a generous offer. Madame de Pënâfiel is charming; I believe all the wonderful tales you have told about her. I know that it is considered a compliment to be invited to her salon, which is very exclusive; but really and truly, I beg you, as I would any one else, not to ask her to receive me." "What reason have you for doing so?" "Because whatever pleasure I might receive from being acquainted with her would be more than overbalanced by the humiliation I should feel in case she refuses to meet me." "What childish vanity!" said the count. "Not very long ago Lord Falmouth wished to present to her the young Duke of ----, who is related to the royal family of England. Would you believe it? Madame de Pënâfiel flatly refused to see him." "You are too well-bred, my dear count, not to understand that my position places me on a certain social footing, and that I ought not to risk such a refusal. You may think me foolish, but it is thus; don't let us speak of it again." "Yes, one word more," said the count; "will you wager two hundred louis that, when she returns, you will be presented to, and received by Madame de Pënâfiel inside of a month?" "At my own request?" "No; on the contrary." "How could it be on the contrary?"