“It is my happy experience,” he said, “that to them nothing is sacred.”

The ladies protested.

“But I can cite an instance in point.”

“It is an exception!”

“Let us hear the story,” said a young lady.

“Yes, tell it to us,” cried all the guests.

The prudent old gentleman cast his eyes around, and, after having formed his conclusions as to the age of the ladies, smiled and said: 

“Since we are all experienced in life, I consent to relate the adventure.”

Dead silence followed, and the narrator read the following from a little book which he had taken from his pocket: 

I was head over ears in love with the Comtesse de -----.  I was twenty
and I was ingenuous.  She deceived me.  I was angry; she threw me over. 
I was ingenuous, I repeat, and I was grieved to lose her.  I was
twenty; she forgave me.  And as I was twenty, as I was always
ingenuous, always deceived, but never again thrown over by her, I
believed myself to have been the best beloved of lovers, consequently
the happiest of men.  The countess had a friend, Madame de T-----, who
seemed to have some designs on me, but without compromising her
dignity; for she was scrupulous and respected the proprieties.  One day
while I was waiting for the countess in her Opera box, I heard my name
called from a contiguous box.  It was Madame de T-----.

“What,” she said, “already here?  Is this fidelity or merely a want of something to do?  Won’t you come to me?”

Her voice and her manner had a meaning in them, but I was far from inclined at that moment to indulge in a romance.

“Have you any plans for this evening?” she said to me.  “Don’t make any!  If I cheer your tedious solitude you ought to be devoted to me.  Don’t ask any questions, but obey.  Call my servants.”

I answered with a bow and on being requested to leave the Opera box, I obeyed.

“Go to this gentleman’s house,” she said to the lackey.  “Say he will not be home till to-morrow.”

She made a sign to him, he went to her, she whispered in his ear, and he left us.  The Opera began.  I tried to venture on a few words, but she silenced me; some one might be listening.  The first act ended, the lackey brought back a note, and told her that everything was ready.  Then she smiled, asked for my hand, took me off, put me in her carriage, and I started on my journey quite ignorant of my destination.  Every inquiry I made was answered by a peal of laughter.  If I had not been aware that this was a woman of great passion, that she had long loved the Marquis de V-----, that she must have known I was aware of it, I should have believed myself in good luck; but she knew the condition of my heart, and the Comtesse de -----.  I therefore rejected all presumptuous ideas and bided my time.  At the first stop, a change of horses was supplied with the swiftness of lightning and we started afresh.  The matter was becoming serious.  I asked with some insistency, where this joke was to end.