“Perhaps, mademoiselle—­for to certain characters nothing is so formidable as duty and obedience.  Your character is one of those inclined to revolt—­”

“I freely acknowledge it, aunt—­and it will always be so, until duty and obedience come to me in a shape that I can respect and love.”

“Whether you respect and love my orders or not, madame,” said the princess, in a curt, harsh voice, “you will, from to-day, from this moment, learn to submit blindly and absolutely to my will.  In one word, you will do nothing without my permission:  it is necessary, I insist upon it, and so I am determined it shall be.”

Adrienne looked at her aunt for a second, and then burst into so free and sonorous a laugh, that it rang for quite a time through the vast apartment.  D’Aigrigny and Baron Tripeaud started in indignation.  The princess looked angrily at her niece.  The doctor raised his eyes to heaven, and clasped his hands over his waistcoat with a sanctimonious sigh.

“Madame,” said Abbe d’Aigrigny, “such fits of laughter are highly unbecoming.  Your aunt’s words are serious, and deserve a different reception.”

“Oh, sir!” said Adrienne, recovering herself, “it is not my fault if I laugh.  How can I maintain my gravity, when I hear my aunt talking of blind submission to her orders?  Is the swallow, accustomed to fly upwards and enjoy the sunshine, fledged to live with the mole in darkness?”

At this answer, D’Aigrigny affected to stare at the other members of this kind of family council with blank astonishment.

“A swallow? what does she mean?” asked the abbe of the baron making a sign, which the latter understood.

“I do not know,” answered Tripeaud, staring in his turn at the doctor.  “She spoke too of a mole.  It ’is quite unheard-of—­incomprehensible.”

“And so, madame,” said the princess, appearing to share in the surprise of the others, “this is the reply that you make to me?”

“Certainly,” answered Adrienne, astonished herself that they should pretend not to understand the simile of which she had made use, accustomed as she was to speak in figurative language.

“Come, come, madame,” said Dr. Baleinier, smiling good-humoredly, “we must be indulgent.  My dear Mdlle.  Adrienne has naturally so uncommon and excitable a nature!  She is really the most charming mad woman I know; I have told her so a hundred times, in my position of an old friend, which allows such freedom.”

“I can conceive that your attachment makes you indulgent—­but it is not the less true, doctor,” said D’Aigrigny, as if reproaching him for taking the part of Mdlle. de Cardoville, “that such answers to serious questions are most extravagant.”

“The evil is, that mademoiselle does not seem to comprehend the serious nature of this conference,” said the princess, harshly.  “She will perhaps understand it better when I have given her my orders.”