te opposite reasons, I agreed with her on the
subject of your wish to reside alone."

"I know it."

"Yes; and because I wished to see you a thousand times freer than you
really are, I advised you--"

"To marry."

"No doubt; you would have had your dear liberty, with its consequences,
only, instead of Mdlle. de Cardoville, we should have called you Madame
Somebody, having found an excellent husband to be responsible for your
independence."

"And who would have been responsible for this ridiculous husband? And
who would bear a mocked and degraded name? I, perhaps?" said Adrienne,
with animation. "No, no, my dear count, good or ill, I will answer for
my own actions; to my name shall attach the reputation, which I alone
have formed. I am as incapable of basely dishonoring a name which is
not mine, as of continually bearing it myself, if it were not held in,
esteem. And, as one can only answer for one's own actions, I prefer to
keep my name."

"You are the only person in the world that has such ideas."

"Why?" said Adrienne, laughing. "Because it appears to me horrible,
to see a poor girl lost and buried in some ugly and selfish man, and
become, as they say seriously, the better half of the monster--yes! a
fresh and blooming rose to become part of a frightful thistle!--Come,
my dear count; confess there is something odious in this conjugal
metempsychosis," added Adrienne, with a burst of laughter.

The forced and somewhat feverish gayety of Adrienne contrasted painfully
with her pale and suffering countenance; it was so easy to see that she
strove to stifle with laughter some deep sorrow, that M. de Montbron
was much affected by it; but, dissembling his emotion, he appeared to
reflect a moment, and took up mechanically one of the new, fresh-cut
books, by which Adrienne was surrounded. After casting a careless glance
at this volume, he continued, still dissembling his feelings: "Come, my
dear madcap: this is another folly. Suppose I were twenty years old,
and that you did me the honor to marry me--you would be called Lady de
Montbron, I imagine?"

"Perhaps."

"How perhaps? Would you not bear my name, if you married me?"

"My dear count," said Adrienne, with a smile, "do not let us pursue this
hypothesis, which can only leave us--regrets."

Suddenly, M. de Montbron started, and looked at Mdlle, de Cardoville
with an expression of surprise. For some moments, whilst talking to
Adrienne, he had mechanically--taken