ed me: 'it was wicked pride, I must try to
become good and pious, modest and industrious'--you can probably
imagine all I heard. My father was perfectly silent. Afterwards when I
was alone with him, he drew me, still violently weeping into his arms,
kissed my wet eyes, and said only: '_Sois tranquille, ma mignonne. Tu
vas gater tes beaux yeux avec ces larmes._' From that day, at home and
at school, whenever any one wanted to tease me, I was called 'Duchess
Toinette.' But I was not at all annoyed; on the contrary I liked the
nickname far better than the simple 'Toni,' my mother usually called
me. After a time as I became more sensible and perceived that my
father's little pension would not enable us to live in ducal style, I
might have lost this sickly desire for royal luxury, and in time
learned to be satisfied with a modest income, like my sisters. But
unfortunately there was a constant temptation close at hand. For years,
our little city had been under the rule of a petty prince, and the
ancestral castle still stood in all its magnificence on a wooded
height, which could be climbed in ten minutes. The prince himself had
been suddenly killed in the prime of life, while hunting. The solemn
funeral, which all the inhabitants flocked to attend, was the first
memorable spectacle that had left a lasting impression on my childish
brain. Since that time, the princess had lived in the castle with
her children, a pretty little boy some years older than I, and
several daughters. The household was maintained in the same style as
before, and after the year of mourning had expired, new guests and
entertainments brought fresh gayety.

"To be sure, we plebeian children only witnessed these things through
the railing of the park, or if we could slip in, through the lofty
windows that looked out upon the garden. But it was more than enough to
give new food to my ducal dreams. The superb toilettes, the countless
candles, the graceful curtseys, smiles, whispers, and flirtations,
which I witnessed for hours, with my face pressed against a window
pane, fairly intoxicated me. I would gladly have spent my life in the
midst of such surroundings, and something told me I should have
harmonized with them well. At least I did not understand my sisters,
who always grew red and foolish if any of the strangers in their walks
about our little city condescended to exchange a few gracious words
with us children, who were standing curiously outside the