so full of
life, so ignorant, and withal so pure in reality.

One day, on returning from a long excursion which the Huberts allowed
her to take twice a year, on Pentecost Monday and on Assumption Day,
she took home with her a sweetbriar bush, and then amused herself by
replanting it in the narrow garden. She trimmed it and watered it well:
it grew and sent out long branches, filled with odour. With her usual
intensity, she watched it daily, but was unwilling to have it grafted,
as she wished to see if, by some miracle, it could not be made to bear
roses. She danced around it, she repeated constantly: "This bush is like
me; it is like me!" And if one joked her upon her great wild-rose bush,
she joined them in their laughter, although a little pale, and with
tears almost ready to fall. Her violet-coloured eyes were softer than
ever, her half-opened lips revealed little white teeth, and her oval
face had a golden aureole from her light wavy hair. She had grown
tall without being too slight; her neck and shoulders were exquisitely
graceful; her chest was full, her waist flexible; and gay, healthy, of
a rare beauty, she had an infinite charm, arising from the innocence and
purity of her soul.

Every day the affection of the Huberts for her increased. They often
talked together of their mutual wish to adopt her. Yet they took no
active measures in that way, lest they might have cause to regret it.
One morning, when the husband announced his final decision, his wife
suddenly began to weep bitterly. To adopt a child? Was not that the same
as giving up all hope of having one of their own? Yet it was useless for
them to expect one now, after so many years of waiting, and she gave her
consent, in reality delighted that she could call her her daughter. When
Angelique was spoken to on the subject, she threw her arms around their
necks, kissed them both, and was almost choked with tears of joy.

So it was agreed upon that she was always to remain with them in this
house, which now seemed to be filled with her presence, rejuvenated by
her youth, and penetrated by her laughter. But an unexpected obstacle
was met with at the first step. The Justice of the Peace, Monsieur
Grandsire, on being consulted, explained to them the radical
impossibility of adoption, since by law the adopted must be "of age."
Then, seeing their disappointment, he suggested the expedient of a legal
guardianship: any individual over fifty years of age can attach