Finally, as M. de Cernay was one day discoursing as usual on my strange behaviour, she said to him, haughtily, and with some show of injured dignity, "That although she knew it was difficult to be admitted to her circle, it would have been a proof of respect worthy of a well-bred man, whom she met so frequently, to have at least manifested a desire to visit the Hôtel Pënâfiel." I remained deaf to these insinuations of the count; and so Madame de Pënâfiel, like any woman who is seeing every one obedient to her slightest whim, became so irritated by my reserve, that one day, when I was conversing to a circle of her lady friends, she came and entered into the conversation, and did all in her power to cause it to become general. I said not a word to her, and as soon as I could do so with politeness I bowed, and retired from the circle. A few days afterwards she spoke of this to the count, and complained of my ill manners. He replied that, on the contrary, I was very formal, and had, probably, not thought it either polite or well-bred to address a lady to whom I had never had the honour of a presentation. Madame de Pënâfiel turned her back on him, and for the next fortnight I heard nothing more of her. Although my curiosity was extreme, I would not, for the reasons I have given, make any advances. I kept strictly to my rôle, and led the count to believe that I was happy in the possession of the fair blonde's affections, and that through weakness, or to show the extent of my devotion, I had promised to take no step towards a presentation to a woman who was known to be so dangerous and seductive as Madame de Pënâfiel. I feared, too, that I would meet with a refusal, as I had shown so little eagerness at first, and that now it was too late to alter my behaviour. About fifteen days after this last conversation with the count, Don Luiz de Cabrera, the relative of Madame de Pënâfiel, whom I had frequently met at the count's and in general society, and with whom I had become quite intimate of late, wrote to tell me that a beautiful collection of intaglios he had bought in Naples, and which he had spoken to me about, had arrived, and if I would take breakfast with him some morning we could examine these antiquities at our leisure. The Chevalier Don Luiz lived in the entresol of the Hôtel de Pënâfiel, where he was almost constantly occupied in scientific research. He only went out occasionally to accompany his cousin, and then only when she desired him to do so. As the chevalier resided in the house of his cousin, I thought I saw in this invitation, which was, in reality, very natural and simple, a hidden meaning of which Madame de Pënâfiel was cognisant.