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!