“Let us hear these orders, aunt,” replied Adrienne as, seated on the other side of the table, opposite to the princess, she leaned her small, dimpled chin in the hollow of her pretty hand, with an air of graceful mockery, charming to behold.

“From to-morrow forward,” resumed the princess, “you will quit the summer-house which you at present inhabit, you will discharge your women, and come and occupy two rooms in this house, to which there will be no access except through my apartment.  You will never go out alone.  You will accompany me to the services of the church.  Your emancipation terminates, in consequence of your prodigality duly proven.  I will take charge of all your expenses, even to the ordering of your clothes, so that you may be properly and modestly dressed.  Until your majority (which will be indefinitely postponed, by means of the intervention of a family-council), you will have no money at your own disposal.  Such is my resolution.”

“And certainly your resolution can only be applauded, madame,” said Baron Tripeaud; “we can but encourage you to show the greatest firmness, for such disorders must have an end.”

“It is more than time to put a stop to such scandal,” added the abbe.

“Eccentricity and exaltation of temperament—­may excuse many things,” ventured to observe the smooth-tongued doctor.

“No doubt,” replied the princess dryly to Baleinier, who played his part to perfection; “but then, doctor, the requisite measures must be taken with such characters.”

Madame de Saint-Dizier had expressed herself in a firm and precise manner; she appeared convinced of the possibility of putting her threats into execution.  M. Tripeaud and D’Aigrigny had just now given their full consent to the words of the princess.  Adrienne began to perceive that something very serious was in contemplation, and her gayety was at once replaced by an air of bitter irony and offended independence.

She rose abruptly, and colored a little; her rosy nostrils dilated, her eyes flashed fire, and, as she raised her head, she gently shook the fine, wavy golden hair, with a movement of pride that was natural to her.  After a moment’s silence, she said to her aunt in a cutting tone:  “You have spoken of the past, madame; I also will speak a few words concerning it, since you force me to do so, though I may regret the necessity.  I quitted your dwelling, because it was impossible for me to live longer in this atmosphere of dark hypocrisy and black treachery.”

“Madame,” said D’Aigrigny, “such words are as violent as they are unreasonable.”

“Since you interrupt me, sir,” said Adrienne, hastily, as she fixed her eyes on the abbe, “tell me what examples did I meet with in my aunt’s house?”

“Excellent, examples, madame.”

“Excellent, sir?  Was it because I saw there, every day, her conversion keep pace with your own?”

“Madame, you forget yourself!” cried the princess, becoming pale with rage.