"I was twenty years old. You are all aware, for the adventure caused a great deal of scandal, you all know how the Count de Melun carried me off one morning along with my sister Sophy. This little mad-cap, who had a great deal of imagination, having discovered me reading a letter of the count’s, in which he spoke of his design, she swore upon her thirteen years that he must carry her off too. I was far from conceding any such claim. It was always taken for granted that children know nothing; but at the opera, and in love, there are no children. The Count de Melun, by means of a bribe, had gained over the chambermaid. I was very culpable; I knew all, and had not informed my father. But my father wearied me somewhat; he preached in the desert; that is to say he preached to me about virtue. He was always talking to me about our noble descent, of our cousin, who was a cardinal, of our uncle, who was a grand inquisitor of the Inquisition. Vanity of vanities! all was vanity with him, while with me all was love. I did not trouble myself about being of an illustrious family; I was handsome, I was worshipped, and, what was still better, I was young. "In the middle of the night I heard my door open; it was the Count de Melun. I was not asleep, I was expecting him. It is not every woman who would like it that is run away with. I was going to be run away with. "Love is not only charming in itself, it is so also from its romance. A passion without adventure is like a mistress without caprice. I was seated upon my bed. ’Is it you, Jacqueline?’ I said, affecting fright. ’It is I,’ said the count, falling upon his knees. ’You, sir! Your letter was not a joke then?’ ’My horses are at hand; there is no time to lose; leave this sad prison: my hotel, my fortune, my heart, all are at your service.’ At that moment a light appeared at the door. ’My father!’ I cried, with affright, as I concealed myself behind the bed curtains. ’All is lost,’ muttered the count. It was Sophy. I recognized her light step. She approached with the light in her hand, and in silence, toward the count. ’My sister,’ said she, with some degree of excitement, but without losing her presence of mind, ’here I am, all ready.’ I did not understand; I looked at her with surprise; she was all dressed, from head to foot. ’What are you saying? You are mad.’ ’Not by any means; I want to be run away with, like yourself.’ The Count de Melun could not help laughing. ’Mademoiselle,’ he said to her, ’you forget your dolls and toys. ’Sir,’ replied she, with dignity, ’I am thirteen years old. It was not yesterday that I made my _début_ at the opera; I take a part on the stage in the ravishment of Psyche.’ ’Good,’ says the count, ’we will carry you off too.’ ’It is as well,’ whispered the count in my ear; ’this is the only way of getting rid of her.’