rom all superintendence. Then began a train of
expenditures, each one more extravagant than the last. Instead of being
satisfied with one or two waiting-women, taken from that class
from which they are generally selected, you chose governesses for
lady-companions, whom you dressed in the most ridiculous and costly
fashion. It is true, that, in the solitude of your pavilion, you
yourself chose to wear, one after another, costumes of different ages.
Your foolish fancies and unreasonable whims have been without end and
without limit: not only have you never fulfilled your religious duties,
but you have actually had the audacity to profane one of your rooms,
by rearing in the centre of it a species of pagan altar, on which is a
group in marble representing a youth and a girl"--the princess uttered
these words as if they would burn her lips--"a work of art, if you will,
but a work in the highest degree unsuitable to a person of your age. You
pass whole days entirely secluded in your pavilion, refusing to see any
one; and Dr. Baleinier, the only one of my friends in whom you seem to
have retained some confidence, having succeeded by much persuasion in
gaining admittance, has frequently found you in so very excited a state,
that he has felt seriously uneasy with regard to your health. You have
always insisted on going out alone, without rendering any account of
your actions to any one. You have taken delight in opposing, in every
possible way, your will to my authority. Is all this true?"

"The picture of my past is not much flattered," said Adrienne; smiling,
"but it is not altogether unlike."

"So you admit, madame," said Abbe d'Aigrigny, laying stress on his
words, "that all the facts stated by your aunt are scrupulously true?"

Every eye was turned towards Adrienne, as if her answer would be of
extreme importance.

"Yes, M. l'Abbe," said she; "I live openly enough to render this
question superfluous."

"These facts are therefore admitted," said Abbe d'Aigrigny, turning
towards the doctor and the baron.

"These facts are completely established," said M. Tripeaud, in a pompous
voice.

"Will you tell me, aunt," asked Adrienne, "what is the good of this long
preamble?"

"This long preamble, madame," resumed the princess with dignity,
"exposes the past in order to justify the future."

"Really, aunt, such mysterious proceedings are a little in the style
of the answers of the Cumaean Sybil. They must be intended to co