she must be
very pretty by this time, notwithstanding the peculiar color of her
hair--for, between ourselves, if she had been a tradesman's daughter,
instead of a young lady of high birth, they would have called it red."

"There again! more slander."

"What! against Mademoiselle Adrienne? Heaven forbid--I always thought
that she would be as good as pretty, and it is not speaking ill of her to
say she has red hair. On the contrary, it always appears to me so fine,
so bright, so sunny, and to suit so well her snowy complexion and black
eyes, that in truth I would not have had it other than it was; and I am
sure, that now this very color of her hair, which would be a blemish in
any one else, must only add to the charm of Mademoiselle Adrienne's face.
She must have such a sweet vixen look!"

"Oh! to be candid, she really was a vixen--always running about the park,
aggravating her governess, climbing the trees--in fact, playing all
manner of naughty tricks."

"I grant you, Mademoiselle Adrienne was a chip of the old block; but then
what wit, what engaging ways, and above all, what a good heart!"

"Yes--that she certainly had. Once I remember she gave her shawl and her
new merino frock to a poor little beggar girl, and came back to the house
in her petticoat, and bare arms."

"Oh, an excellent heart--but headstrong--terribly headstrong!"

"Yes--that she was; and 'tis likely to finish badly, for it seems that
she does things at Paris--oh! such things--"

"What things?"

"Oh, my dear; I can hardly venture--"

"Fell, but what are they?"

"Why," said the worthy dame, with a sort of embarrassment and confusion,
which showed how much she was shocked by such enormities, "they say, that
Mademoiselle Adrienne never sets foot in a church, but lives in a kind of
heathen temple in her aunt's garden, where she has masked women to dress
her up like a goddess, and scratches them very often, because she gets
tipsy--without mentioning, that every night she plays on a hunting horn
of massive gold--all which causes the utmost grief and despair to her
poor aunt the princess."

Here the bailiff burst into a fit of laughter, which interrupted his
wife.

"Now tell me," said he, when this first access of hilarity was over,
"where did you get these fine stories about Mademoiselle Adrienne?"

"From Rene's wife, who went to Paris to look for a child to nurse; she
called at Saint-Dizier House, to see Madame Grivois, her godmother.--Now