Wishing to show what he probably considered his rights, he began to treat the poor young woman in the rudest and most compromising manner, which distressed me very much, for I could not offer her any compensation for her loss, neither did she desire any. But at last she became justly provoked at the brutal behaviour of her strange adorer, and, to avenge herself, flirted with me in an innocent sort of way. Very soon M. de Sainville did more for me than I had even hoped, for after two or three scenes, in which he gave vent to his wounded feelings, he passed from wounded dignity to cold irony and rude indifference; finally, he went and made love, with all his might, to another poor young thing, who didn't know what to make of it. So that although it was almost entirely untrue, the world very soon gave me the credit and glory of being preferred to Beau Sainville. It served me right for my duplicity, but I had to stand it. As for the proofs the world had of my good fortune, they were of the most positive evidence, such as the world always can show on like occasions. First, I had once called for the carriage of the lady because there was no one else at hand; then she had offered me a place in her loge at one of the small theatres; I had hastened to offer her my arm, and we had made the tour of a crowded reception-room together in sight of all Paris; finally, last and flagrant proof, she had remained at home one evening, instead of going to a concert, and my carriage had been seen that same evening standing at her door. In the face of such convincing evidence, it was a duly established fact that I was the luckiest of mortals. In the midst of this felicity, I learned, through M. de Cernay, of Madame de Pënâfiel's return. In order to win his wager, the count served my purposes uncommonly well, whether Madame de Pënâfiel had overheard my defence of her or not. As soon as she came back to Paris, therefore, M. de Cernay never saw her without commenting on my strange behaviour, in neglecting to ask for a presentation, especially as I moved in precisely the same circle, and could hardly help meeting her every evening, to say nothing of my knowing that the count was one of her intimate friends, and would gladly procure me this favour, which so many desired. But, said M. de Cernay, it was rumoured that I was seriously attached to a charming young woman, who, no doubt, had made me promise never to go near the Hôtel Pënâfiel, which was supposed to be a sort of palace of Alcina, from which no one came out except in a state of enchantment, and hopelessly in love. At last, by dint of heaping up so many silly stories, and constantly harping on this one subject, or from some unknown reason, Madame de Pënâfiel became either tired of hearing him, or provoked at my apparent indifference. As she was habitually sought after and flattered, she began to think my neglect was a want of respect to herself and to social customs.