ch, "I think it would be a
charming picture, for you are dressed, as usual with perfect taste."

"But am I not better dressed than on other days, my dear poetess? I began
by telling you that I do not ask the question for my own sake," said
Adrienne, gayly.

"Well, I suppose so," replied Mother Bunch, with a faint smile. "It is
certainly impossible to imagine anything that would suit you better. The
light green and the pale rose-color, with the soft lustre of the white
ornaments, harmonize so well with your golden hair, that I cannot
conceive, I tell you, a more graceful picture."

The speaker felt what she said, and she was happy to be able to express
it, for we know the intense admiration of that poetic soul for all that
was beautiful.

"Well!" went on Adrienne, gayly, "I am glad, my dear, that you find me
better dressed than usual."

"Only," said the hunchback, hesitating.

"Only?" repeated Adrienne, looking at her with an air of interrogation.

"Why, only," continued the other, "if I have never seen you look more
pretty, I have also never observed in your features the resolute and
ironical expression which they had just now. It was like an air of
impatient defiance."

"And so it was, my dear little Magdalen," said Adrienne, throwing her
arms round the girl's neck with joyous tenderness. "I must kiss you, for
having guessed it. You see, I expect a visit from my dear aunt."

"The Princess de Saint-Dizier?" cried Mother Bunch, in alarm. "That
wicked lady, who did you so much evil?"

"The very same. She has asked for an interview, and I shall be delighted
to receive her."

"Delighted?"

"Yes--a somewhat ironical and malicious delight, it is true," answered
Adrienne, still more gayly. "You shall judge for yourself. She regrets
her gallantries, her beauty, her youth--even her size afflicts the holy
woman!--and she will see me young, fair, beloved--and above all
thin--yes, thin," added Mdlle. de Cardoville, laughing merrily. "And you
may imagine, my dear, how much envy and despair, the sight of a young,
thin woman excites in a stout one of a certain age!"

"My friend," said Mother Bunch, gravely, "you speak in jest. And yet, I
know not why, the coming of this princess alarms me."

"Dear, gentle soul, be satisfied!" answered Adrienne, affectionately. "I
do not fear this woman--I no longer have any fear of her--and to prove it
to her confusion, I will treat her--a monster of hypocrisy and
wickedness, who com