rprise. "This young lady, who honors me with
her friendship, is willing to be present at this interview, which you
have asked for--I say she has consented to be present, for it needs, I
confess, the kindest condescension in her to resign herself, from
affection for me, to hear all the graceful, obliging, and charming things
which you have no doubt come hither to communicate."

"Madame--" began the princess, angrily.

"Permit me to interrupt your highness," returned Adrienne, in a tone of
perfect amenity, as if she were addressing the most flattering
compliments to her visitor. "To put you quite at your ease with the lady
here, I will begin by informing you that she is quite aware of all the
holy perfidies, pious wrongs, and devout infamies, of which you nearly
made me the victim. She knows that you are a mother of the Church, such
as one sees but few of in these days. May I hope, therefore, that your
highness will dispense with this delicate and interesting reserve?"

"Really," said the princess, with a sort of incensed amazement, "I
scarcely know if I wake or sleep."

"Dear me!" said Adrienne, in apparent alarm; "this doubt as to the state
of your faculties is very shocking, madame. I see that the blood flies to
your head, for your face sufficiently shows it; you seem oppressed,
confined, uncomfortable--perhaps (we women may say so between ourselves),
perhaps you are laced a little too tightly, madame?"

These words, pronounced by Adrienne with an air of warm interest and
perfect simplicity, almost choked the princess with rage. She became
crimson, seated herself abruptly, and exclaimed: "Be it so, madame! I
prefer this reception to any other. It puts me at my ease, as you say."

"Does it indeed, madame?" said Adrienne, with a smile. "You may now at
least speak frankly all that you feel, which must for you have the charm
of novelty! Confess that you are obliged to me for enabling you, even for
a moment, to lay aside that mask of piety, amiability, and goodness,
which must be so troublesome to you."

As she listened to the sarcasms of Adrienne (an innocent and excusable
revenge, if we consider all the wrongs she had suffered), Mother Bunch
felt her heart sink within her; for she dreaded the malignity of the
princess, who replied, with the utmost calmness: "A thousand thanks,
madame, for your excellent intentions and sentiments. I appreciate them
as I ought, and I hope in a short time to prove it to you."

"Well,