ADRIENNE AT HER TOILET.
About an hour had elapsed since Mrs. Grivois had seen or pretended to
have seen Adrienne de Cardoville re-enter in the morning the extension of
Saint-Dizier House.
It is for the purpose, not of excusing, but of rendering intelligible,
the following scenes, that it is deemed necessary to bring out into the
light some striking peculiarities in the truly original character of Miss
de Cardoville.
This originality consisted in an excessive independence of mind, joined
to a natural horror of whatsoever is repulsive or deformed, and to an
insatiable desire of being surrounded by everything attractive and
beautiful. The painter most delighted with coloring and beauty, the
sculptor most charmed by proportions of form, feel not more than Adrienne
did the noble enthusiasm which the view of perfect beauty always excites
in the chosen favorites of nature.
And it was not only the pleasures of sight which this young lady loved to
gratify: the harmonious modulations of song, the melody of instruments,
the cadences of poetry, afforded her infinite pleasures; while a harsh
voice or a discordant noise made her feel the same painful impression, or
one nearly as painful as that which she involuntarily experienced from
the sight of a hideous object. Passionately fond of flowers, too, and of
their sweet scents, there are some perfumes which she enjoyed equally
with the delights of music or those of plastic beauty. It is necessary,
alas, to acknowledge one enormity: Adrienne was dainty in her food! She
valued more than any one else the fresh pulp of handsome fruit, the
delicate savor of a golden pheasant, cooked to a turn, and the odorous
cluster of a generous vine.
But Adrienne enjoyed all these pleasures with an exquisite reserve. She
sought religiously to cultivate and refine the senses given her. She
would have deemed it black ingratitude to blunt those divine gifts by
excesses, or to debase them by unworthy selections of objects upon which
to exercise them; a fault from which, indeed, she was preserved by the
excessive and imperious delicacy of her taste.
The BEAUTIFUL and the UGLY occupied for her the places which GOOD and
EVIL holds for others.
Her devotion to grace, elegance, and physical beauty, had led her also to
the adoration of moral beauty; for if the expression of a low and bad
passion render uncomely the most beautiful countenances, those which are
in themselves the most ugly are ennobled, on the contrary, by the
expression of good feelings and generous sentiments.
In a word, Adrienne was the most complete, the most ideal personification
of SENSUALITY--not of vulgar, ignorant, non intelligent, mistaken
sensuousness which is always deceit ful and corrupted by habit or by the
necessity for gross and ill-regulated enjoyments, but that exquisite
sensuality which is to the senses what intelligence is to the soul.
The independence of this young lady's character was extreme. Certain
humiliating subjections imposed upon her success by its social position,
above all things were revolting to her, and she had the hardihood to
resolve to withdraw herself from them. She was a woman, the most womanish
that it is possible to imagine--a woman in her timidity as well as in her
audacity--a woman in her hatred of the brutal despotism of men, as well
as in her intense disposition to self-devoting herself, madly even and
blindly, to him who should merit such a devotion from her--a woman whose
piquant wit was occasionally paradoxical--a superior woman, in brief, who
entertained a well-grounded disdain and contempt for certain men either
placed very high or greatly adulated, whom she had from time to time met
in the drawing-room of her aunt, the Princess Saint-Dizier, when she
resided with her.
These indispensable explanations being given, we usher, the reader into
the presence of Adrienne de Cardoville, who had just come out of the
bath.
It would require all the brilliant colorings of the Venetian school to
represent that charming scene, which would rather seem to have occurred
in the sixteenth century, in some palace of Florence or Bologna, than in
Paris, in the Faubourg Saint-Germain, in the month of February, 1832.
Adrienne's dressing-room was a kind of miniature temple seemingly one
erected and dedicated to the worship of beauty, in gratitude to the Maker
who has lavished so many charms upon woman, not to be neglected by her,
or to cover and conceal them with ashes, or to destroy them by the
contact of her person with sordid and harsh haircloth; but in order that,
with fervent gratitude for the divine gifts wherewith she is endowed, she
may enhance her charms with all the illusions of grace and all the
splendors of apparel, so as to glorify the divine work of her own
perfections in the eyes of all. Daylight was admitted into this
semicircular apartment, through one of those double windows, contrived
for the preservation of heat, so happily imported from Germany. The walls
of the pavilion being constructed of stone of great thickness, the depth
of the aperture for the windows was therefore very great. That of
Adrienne's dressing-room was closed on the outside by a sash containing a
single large pane of plate glass, and within, by another large plate of
ground glass. In the interval or space of about three feet left between
these two transparent enclosures, there was a case or box filled with
furze mould, whence sprung forth climbing plants, which, directed round
the ground glass, formed a rich garland of leaves and flowers. A garnet
damask tapestry, rich with harmoniously blended arabesques, in the purest
style, covered the walls and a thick carpet of similar color was extended
over the floor: and this sombre ground, presented by the floor and walls,
marvellously enhanced the effects of all the harmonious ornaments and
decorations of the chamber.
Under the window, opposite to the south, was placed Adrienne's dressing
case, a real masterpiece of the skill of the goldsmith. Upon a large
tablet of lapis-lazuli, there were scattered boxes of jewels, their lids
precisely enamelled; several scent boxes of rock crystal, and other
implements and utensils of the toilet, some formed of shells, some of
mother-of-pearl, and others of ivory, covered with ornaments of gold in
extraordinary taste. Two large figures, modelled in silver with antique
purity; supported an oval swing mirror, which had for its rim, in place
of a frame curiously carved, a fresh garland of natural flowers, renewed
every day like a nosegay for a ball.
Two enormous Japanese vases, of purple and gold, three feet each in
diameter, were placed upon the carpet on each side of the toilet, and,
filled with camellias, ibiscures, and cape jasmine, in full flower formed
a sort of grove, diversified with the most brilliant colors. At the
farther end of the apartment, opposite the casement, was to be seen,
surrounded by another mass of flowers, a reduction in white marble of the
enchanting group of Daphnis and Chloe, the more chaste ideal of graceful
modesty and youthful beauty.
Two golden lamps burned perfumes upon the same pedestal which supported
those two charming figures. A coffer of frosted silver, set off with
small figures in jewelry and precious stones, and supported on four feet
of gilt bronze, contained various necessaries for the toilette; two
frosted Psyches, decorated with diamond ear-rings; some excellent
drawings from Raphael and Titian, painted by Adrienne herself, consisting
of portraits of both men and women of exquisite beauty; several consoles
of oriental jasper, supporting ewers and basins of silver and of silver
gilt, richly chased and filled with scented waters; a voluptuously rich
divan, some seats, and an illuminated gilt fable, completed the furniture
of this chamber, the atmosphere of which was impregnated with the
sweetest perfumes.
Adrienne, whom her attendants had just helped from the bath, was seated
before her toilette, her three women surrounding her. By a caprice, or
rather by a necessary and logical impulse of her soul, filled as it was
with the love of beauty and of harmony in all things, Adrienne had wished
the young women who served her to be very pretty, and be dressed with
attention and with a charming originality. We have already seen
Georgette, a piquante blonde, attired in her attractive costume of an
intriguing lady's maid of Marivaux; and her two companions were quite
equal to her both in gracefulness and gentility.
One of them, named Florine, a tall, delicately slender, and elegant girl,
with the air and form of Diana Huntress, was of a pale brown complexion.
Her thick black hair was turned up behind, where it was fastened with a
long golden pin. Like the two other girls, her arms were uncovered to
facilitate the performance of her duties about and upon the person of her
charming mistress. She wore a dress of that gay green so familiar to the
Venetian painters. Her petticoat was very ample. Her slender waist curved
in from under the plaits of a tucker of white cambric, plaited in five
minute folds, and fastened by five gold buttons. The third of Adrienne's
women had a face so fresh and ingenuous, a waist so delicate, so
pleasing, and so finished, that her mistress had given her the name of
Hebe. Her dress of a delicate rose color, and Grecian cut, displayed her
charming neck, and her beautiful arms up to the very shoulders. The
physiognomy of these three young women was laughter loving and happy. On
their features there was no expression of that bitter sullenness, willing
and hated obedience, or offensive familiarity, or base and degraded
deference, which are the ordinary results of a state of servitude. In the
zealous eagerness of the cares and attentions which they lavished upon
Adrienne, there seemed to be at least as much of affection as of
deference and respect. They appeared to derive an ardent pleasure from
the services which they rendered to their lovely mistress. One would have
thought that they attached to the dressing and embellishment of her
person all the merits and the enjoyment arising from the execution of a
work of art, in the accomplishing of which, fruitful of delights, they
were stimulated by the passions of love, of pride, and of joy.
The sun beamed brightly upon the toilet-case, placed in front of the
window. Adrienne was seated on a chair, its back elevated a little more
than usual. She was enveloped in a long morning-gown of blue silk,
embroidered with a leaf of the same color, which was fitted close to her
waist, as exquisitely slender and delicate as that of a child of twelve
years, by a girdle with floating tags. Her neck, delicately slender and
flexible as a bird's, was uncovered, as were also her shoulders and arms,
and all were of incomparable beauty. Despite the vulgarity of the
comparison, the purest ivory alone can give an idea of the dazzling
whiteness of her polished satin skin, of a texture so fresh and so firm,
that some drops of water, collected and still remaining about the roots
of her hair from the bath, rolled in serpentine lines over her shoulders,
like pearls, or beads, of crystal, over white marble.
And what gave enhanced lustre to this wondrous carnation, known but to
auburn-headed beauties, was the deep purple of her, humid lips,--the
roseate transparency of her small ears, of her dilated nostrils, and her
nails, as bright and glossy, as if they had been varnished. In every
spot, indeed, where her pure arterial blood, full of animation and heat,
could make its way to the skin and shine through the surface, it
proclaimed her high health and the vivid life and joyous buoyancy of her
glorious youth. Her eyes were very large, and of a velvet softness. Now
they glanced, sparkling and shining with comic humor or intelligence and
wit; and now they widened and extended themselves, languishing and
swimming between their double fringes of long crisp eyelashes, of as deep
a black as her finely-drawn and exquisitely arched eyebrows; for, by a
delightful freak of nature, she had black eyebrows and eyelashes to
contrast with the golden red of her hair. Her forehead, small like those
of ancient Grecian statues, formed with the rest of her face a perfect
oval. Her nose, delicately curved, was slightly aquiline; the enamel of
her teeth glistened when the light fell upon them; and her vermeil mouth
voluptuously sensual, seemed to call for sweet kisses, and the gay smiles
and delectations of dainty and delicious pleasure. It is impossible to
behold or to conceive a carriage of the head freer, more noble, or more
elegant than hers; thanks to the great distance which separated the neck
and the ear from their attachment to her outspread and dimpled shoulders.
We have already said that Adrienne was red-haired; but it was the redness
of many of the admirable portraits of women by Titian and Leonardo da
Vinci,--that is to say, molten gold presents not reflections more
delightfully agreeable or more glittering, than the naturally undulating
mass of her very long hair, as soft and fine as silk, so long, that, when
let loose, it reached the floor; in it, she could wholly envelop herself,
like another Venus arising from the sea. At the present moment,
Adrienne's tresses were ravishing to behold; Georgette, her arms bare,
stood behind her mistress, and had carefully collected into one of her
small white hands, those splendid threads whose naturally ardent
brightness was doubled in the sunshine. When the pretty lady's-maid
pulled a comb of ivory into the midst of the undulating and golden waves
of that enormously magnificent skein of silk, one might have said that a
thousand sparks of fire darted forth and coruscated away from it in all
directions. The sunshine, too, reflected not less golden and fiery rays
from numerous clusters of spiral ringlets, which, divided upon Adrienne's
forehead, fell over her cheeks, and in their elastic flexibility caressed
the risings of her snowy bosom, to whose charming undulations they
adapted and applied themselves. Whilst Georgette, standing, combed the
beautiful locks of her mistress, Hebe, with one knee upon the floor, and
having upon the other the sweet little foot of Miss Cardoville, busied
herself in fitting it with a remarkably small shoe of black satin, and
crossed its slender ties over a silk stocking of a pale yet rosy flesh
color, which imprisoned the smallest and finest ankle in the world.
Florine, a little farther back, presented to her mistress, in a jeweled
box, a perfumed paste, with which Adrienne slightly rubbed her dazzling
hands and outspread fingers, which seemed tinted with carmine to their
extremities. Let us not forget Frisky, who, couched in the lap of her
mistress, opened her great eyes with all her might, and seemed to observe
the different operations of Adrienne's toilette with grave and reflective
attention. A silver bell being sounded from without, Florine, at a sign
from her mistress, went out and presently returned, bearing a letter upon
a small silver-gilt salve. Adrienne, while her women continued fitting on
her shoes, dressing her hair, and arranging her in her habiliments, took
the letter, which was written by the steward of the estate of Cardoville,
and read aloud as follows:
"HONORED MADAME,
"Knowing your goodness of heart and generosity, I venture to address you
with respectful confidence. During twenty years I served the late Count
and Duke of Cardoville, your noble father, I believe I may truly say,
with probity and zeal. The castle is now sold; so that I and my wife, in
our old age, behold ourselves about to be dismissed, and left destitute
of all resources: which, alas! is very hard at our time of life."
"Poor creature!" said Adrienne, interrupting herself in reading: "my
father, certainly, always prided himself upon their devotion to him, and
their probity." She continued:
"There does, indeed, remain to us a means of retaining our place here;
but it would constrain us to be guilty of baseness; and, be the
consequences to us what they may, neither I nor my wife wish to purchase
our bread at such a price."
"Good, very good," said Adrienne, "always the same--dignity even in
poverty--it is the sweet perfume of a flower, not the less sweet because
it has bloomed in a meadow."
"In order to explain to you, honored madame, the unworthy task exacted
from us, it is necessary to inform you, in the first place, that M. Rodin
came here from Paris two days ago."
"Ah! M. Rodin!" said Mademoiselle de Cardoville, interrupting herself
anew; "the secretary of Abbe d'Aigrigny! I am not at all surprised at him
being engaged in a perfidious or black intrigue. But let us see."
"M. Rodin came from Paris to announce to us that the estate was sold, and
that he was sure of being able to obtain our continuance in our place, if
we would assist him in imposing a priest not of good character upon the
new proprietress as her future confessor; and if, the better to attain
this end, we would consent to calumniate another priest, a deserving and
excellent man, much loved and much respected in the country. Even that is
not all. I was required to write twice or thrice a week to M. Rodin, and
to relate to him everything that should occur in the house. I ought to
acknowledge, honored madame, that these infamous proposals were as much
as possible disguised and dissimulated under sufficiently specious
pretexts; but, notwithstanding the aspect which with more or less skill
it was attempted to give to the affair, it was precisely and
substantially what I have now had the honor of stating to you."
"Corruption, calumny, and false and treacherous impeachment!" said
Adrienne, with disgust: "I cannot think of such wretches without
involuntarily feeling my mind shocked by dismal ideas of black, venomous,
and vile reptiles, of aspects most hideous indeed. How much more do I
love to dwell upon the consoling thought of honest Dupont and his wife!"
Adrienne proceeded:
"Believe me, we hesitated not an instant. We quit Cardoville, which has
been our home for the last twenty years;--but we shall quit it like
honest people, and with the consciousness of our integrity. And now,
honored madame, if, in the brilliant circle in which you move--you, who
are so benevolent and amiable--could find a place for us by your
recommendation, then, with endless gratitude to you, we shall escape from
a position of most cruel embarrassment."
"Surely, surely," said Adrienne, "they shall not in vain appeal to me. To
wrest excellent persons from the grip of M. Rodin, is not only a duty but
a pleasure: for it is at once a righteous and a dangerous enterprise; and
dearly do I love to brave powerful oppressors!" Adrienne again went on
reading:
"After having thus spoken to you of ourselves, honored madame, permit us
to implore your protection for other unfortunates; for it would be wicked
to think only of one's self. Three days ago, two shipwrecks took place
upon our ironbound coast. A few passengers only were saved, and were
conducted hither, where I and my wife gave them all necessary attentions.
All these passengers have departed for Paris, except one, who still
remains, his wounds having hitherto prevented him from leaving the house,
and, indeed, they will constrain him to remain for some days to come. He
is a young East Indian prince, of about twenty years of age, and he
appears to be as amiable and good as he is handsome, which is not a
little to say, though he has a tawny skin, like the rest of his
countrymen, as I understand."
"An Indian prince! twenty years of age! young, amiable, and handsome!"
exclaimed Adrienne, gayly; "this is quite delightful, and not at all of
an ordinary or vulgar nature! Oh! this Indian prince has already awakened
all my sympathies! But what can I do with this Adonis from the banks of
the Ganges, who has come to wreck himself upon the Picardy coast?"
Adrienne's three women looked at her with much astonishment, though they
were accustomed to the singular eccentricities of her character.
Georgette and Hebe even indulged in discreet and restrained smiles.
Florine, the tall and beautiful pale brown girl, also smiled like her
pretty companions; but it was after a short pause of seeming reflection,
as if she had previously been entirely engrossed in listening to and
recollecting the minutest words of her mistress, who, though powerfully
interested by the situation of the "Adonis from Ganges banks," as she had
called him, continued to read Dupont's letter:
"One of the countrymen of the Indian prince, who has also remained to
attend upon him, has given me to understand that the youthful prince has
lost in the shipwreck all he possessed, and knows not how to get to
Paris, where his speedy presence is required by some affairs of the very
greatest importance. It is not from the prince himself that I have
obtained this information: no; he appears to be too dignified and proud
to proclaim of his fate: but his countryman, more communicative,
confidentially told me what I have stated, adding, that his young
compatriot has already been subjected to great calamities, and that his
father, who was the sovereign of an Indian kingdom, has been killed by
the English, who have also dispossessed his son of his crown."
"This is very singular," said Adrienne, thoughtfully. "These
circumstances recall to my mind that my father often mentioned that one
of our relations was espoused in India by a native monarch; and that
General Simon: (whom they have created a marshal) had entered into his
service." Then interrupting herself to indulge in a smile, she added,
"Gracious! this affair will be quite odd and fantastical! Such things
happen to nobody but me; and then people say that I am the uncommon
creature! But it seems to me that it is not I, but Providence, which, in
truth, sometimes shows itself very eccentric! But let us see if worthy
Dupont gives the name of this handsome prince?"
"We trust, honored madame, that you will pardon our boldness: but we
should have thought ourselves very selfish, if, while stating to you our
own griefs, we had not also informed you that there is with us a brave
and estimable prince involved in so much distress. In fine, lady, trust
to me; I am old; and I have had much experience of men; and it was only
necessary to see the nobleness of expression and the sweetness of
countenance of this young Indian, to enable me to judge that he is worthy
of the interest which I have taken the liberty to request in his behalf.
It would be sufficient to transmit to him a small sum of money for the
purchase of some European clothing; for he has lost all his Indian
vestments in the shipwreck."
"Good heavens! European clothing!" exclaimed Adrienne, gayly. "Poor young
prince! Heaven preserve him from that; and me also! Chance has sent
hither from the heart of India, a mortal so far favored as never to have
worn the abominable European costume--those hideous habits, and frightful
hats, which render the men so ridiculous, so ugly, that in truth there is
not a single good quality to be discovered in them, nor one spark of what
can either captivate or attract! There comes to me at last a handsome
young prince from the East, where the men are clothed in silk and
cashmere. Most assuredly I'll not miss this rare and unique opportunity
of exposing myself to a very serious and formidable temptation! No, no!
not a European dress for me, though poor Dupont requests it! But the
name--the name of this dear prince! Once more, what a singular event is
this! If it should turn out to be that cousin from beyond the Ganges!
During my childhood, I have heard so much in praise of his royal father!
Oh! I shall be quite ravished to give his son the kind reception which he
merits!" And then she read on:
"If, besides this small sum, honored madame, you are so kind as to give
him, and also his companion, the means of reaching Paris, you will confer
a very great service upon this poor young prince, who is at present so
unfortunate.
"To conclude, I know enough of your delicacy to be aware that it would
perhaps be agreeable to you to afford this succor to the prince without
being known as his benefactress; in which case, I beg that you will be
pleased to command me; and you may rely upon my discretion. If, on the
contrary, you wish to address it directly to himself, his name is, as it
has been written for me by his countrymen, Prince Djalma, son of Radja
sing, King of Mundi."
"Djalma!" said Adrienne, quickly, and appearing to call up her
recollections, "Radja-sing! Yes--that is it! These are the very names
that my father so often repeated, while telling me that there was nothing
more chivalric or heroic in the world than the old king, our relation by
marriage; and the son has not derogated, it would seem, from that
character. Yes, Djalma, Radja-sing--once more, that is it--such names are
not so common," she added, smiling, "that one should either forget or
confound them with others. This Djalma is my cousin! Brave and
good--young and charming! above all, he has never worn the horrid
European dress! And destitute of every resource! This is quite ravishing!
It is too much happiness at once! Quick, quick let us improvise a pretty
fairy tale, of which the handsome and beloved prince shall be the hero!
The poor bird of the golden and azure plumage has wandered into our
dismal climate; but he will find here, at least, something to remind him
of his native region of sunshine and perfumes!" Then, addressing one of
her women, she said: "Georgette, take paper and write, my child!" The
young girl went to the gilt, illuminated table, which contained materials
for writing; and, having seated herself, she said to her mistress: "I
await orders."
Adrienne de Cardoville, whose charming countenance was radiant with the
gayety of happiness and joy, proceeded to dictate the following letter to
a meritorious old painter, who had long since taught her the arts of
drawing and designing; in which arts she excelled, as indeed she did in
all others:
"MY DEAR TITIAN, MY GOOD VERONESE, MY WORTHY RAPHAEL.
"You can render me a very great service,--and you will do it, I am sure,
with that perfect and obliging complaisance by which you are ever
distinguished.
"It is to go immediately and apply yourself to the skillful hand who
designed my last costumes of the fifteenth century. But the present
affair is to procure modern East Indian dresses for a young man--yes,
sir--for a young man,--and according to what I imagine of him, I fancy
that you can cause his measure to be taken from the Antinous, or rather,
from the Indian Bacchus; yes--that will be more likely.
"It is necessary that these vestments be at once of perfect propriety and
correctness, magnificently rich, and of the greatest elegance. You will
choose the most beautiful stuffs possible; and endeavor, above all
things, that they be, or resemble, tissues of Indian manufacture; and you
will add to them, for turbans and sashes, six splendid long cashmere
shawls, two of them white, two red, and two orange; as nothing suits
brown complexions better than those colors.
"This done (and I allow you at the utmost only two or three days), you
will depart post in my carriage for Cardoville Manor House, which you
know so well. The steward, the excellent Dupont, one of your old friends,
will there introduce you to a young Indian Prince, named Djalma; and you
will tell that most potent grave, and reverend signior, of another
quarter of the globe, that you have come on the part of an unknown
friend, who, taking upon himself the duty of a brother, sends him what is
necessary to preserve him from the odious fashions of Europe. You will
add, that his friend expects him with so much impatience that he conjures
him to come to Paris immediately. If he objects that he is suffering, you
will tell him that my carriage is an excellent bed-closet; and you will
cause the bedding, etc., which it contains, to be fitted up, till he
finds it quite commodious. Remember to make very humble excuses for the
unknown friend not sending to the prince either rich palanquins, or even,
modestly, a single elephant; for alas! palanquins are only to be seen at
the opera; and there are no elephants but those in the menagerie,--though
this must make us seem strangely barbarous in his eyes.
"As soon as you shall have decided on your departure, perform the journey
as rapidly as possible, and bring here, into my house, in the Rue de
Babylone (what predestination! that I should dwell in the street of
BABYLON,--a name which must at least accord with the ear of an
Oriental),--you will bring hither, I say, this dear prince, who is so
happy as to have been born in a country of flowers, diamonds, and sun!
"Above all, you will have the kindness, my old and worthy friend, not to
be at all astonished at this new freak, and refrain from indulging in
extravagant conjectures. Seriously, the choice which I have made of you
in this affair,--of you, whom I esteem and most sincerely honor,--is
because it is sufficient to say to you that, at the bottom of all this,
there is something more than a seeming act of folly."
In uttering these last words, the tone of Adrienne was as serious and
dignified as it had been previously comic and jocose. But she quickly
resumed, more gayly, dictating to Georgette.
"Adieu, my old friend. I am something like that commander of ancient
days, whose heroic nose and conquering chin you have so often made me
draw: I jest with the utmost freedom of spirit even in the moment of
battle: yes, for within an hour I shall give battle, a pitched battle--to
my dear pew-dwelling aunt. Fortunately, audacity and courage never failed
me, and I burn with impatience for the engagement with my austere
princess.
"A kiss, and a thousand heartfelt recollections to your excellent wife.
If I speak of her here, who is so justly respected, you will please to
understand, it is to make you quite at ease as to the consequences of
this running away with, for my sake, a charming young prince,--for it is
proper to finish well where I should have begun, by avowing to you that
he is charming indeed!
"Once more, adieu!"
Then, addressing Georgette, said she, "Have you done writing, chit?"
"Yes, madame."
"Oh, add this postscript."
"P.S.--I send you draft on sight on my banker for all expenses. Spare
nothing. You know I am quite a grand seigneur. I must use this masculine
expression, since your sex have exclusively appropriated to yourselves
(tyrants as you are) a term, so significant as it is of noble
generosity."
"Now, Georgette," said Adrienne; "bring me an envelope, and the letter,
that I may sign it." Mademoiselle de Cardoville took the pen that
Georgette presented to her, signed the letter, and enclosed in it an
order upon her banker, which was expressed thus:
"Please pay M. Norval, on demand without grace, the sum of money he may
require for expenses incurred on my account.
"ADRIENNE DE CARDOVILLE."
During all this scene, while Georgette wrote, Florine and Hebe had
continued to busy themselves with the duties of their mistress's
toilette, who had put off her morning gown, and was now in full dress, in
order to wait upon the princess, her aunt. From the sustained and
immovably fixed attention with which Florine had listened to Adrienne's
dictating to Georgette her letter to M. Norval, it might easily have been
seen that, as was her habit indeed, she endeavored to retain in her
memory even the slightest words of her mistress.
"Now, chit," said Adrienne to Hebe, "send this letter immediately to M.
Norval."
The same silver bell was again rung from without. Hebe moved towards the
door of the dressing-room, to go and inquire what it was, and also to
execute the order of her mistress as to the letter. But Florine
precipitated herself, so to speak, before her, and so as to prevent her
leaving the apartment; and said to Adrienne:
"Will it please my lady for me to send this letter? I have occasion to go
to the mansion."
"Go, Florine, then," said Adrienne, "seeing that you wish it. Georgette,
seal the letter."
At the end of a second or two, during which Georgette had sealed the
letter, Hebe returned.
"Madame," said she, re-entering, "the working-man who brought back Frisky
yesterday, entreats you to admit him for an instant. He is very pale, and
he appears quite sad."
"Would that he may already have need of me! I should be too happy!" said
Adrienne gayly. "Show the excellent young man into the little saloon.
And, Florine, despatch this letter immediately."
Florine went out. Miss de Cardoville, followed by Frisky, entered the
little reception-room, where Agricola awaited her.