“The Princess de Saint-Dizier?” cried Mother Bunch, in alarm. “That wicked lady, who did you so much evil?”
“The very same. She has asked for an interview, and I shall be delighted to receive her.”
“Delighted?”
“Yes—a somewhat ironical and malicious delight, it is true,” answered Adrienne, still more gayly. “You shall judge for yourself. She regrets her gallantries, her beauty, her youth—even her size afflicts the holy woman!—and she will see me young, fair, beloved—and above all thin—yes, thin,” added Mdlle. de Cardoville, laughing merrily. “And you may imagine, my dear, how much envy and despair, the sight of a young, thin woman excites in a stout one of a certain age!”
“My friend,” said Mother Bunch, gravely, “you speak in jest. And yet, I know not why, the coming of this princess alarms me.”
“Dear, gentle soul, be satisfied!” answered Adrienne, affectionately. “I do not fear this woman—I no longer have any fear of her—and to prove it to her confusion, I will treat her—a monster of hypocrisy and wickedness, who comes here, no doubt, on some abominable design—I will treat her as an inoffensive, ridiculous fat woman!” And Adrienne again laughed.
A servant here entered the room, and interrupted the mirth of Adrienne, by saying: “The Princess de Saint-Dizier wishes to know if you can receive her?”
“Certainly,” said Mdlle. de Cardoville; and the servant retired. Mother Bunch was about to rise and quit the room; but Adrienne held her back, and said to her, taking her hand with an air of serious tenderness: “Stay, my dear friend, I entreat you.”
“Do you wish it?”
“Yes; I wish—still in revenge, you know,” said Adrienne, with a smile, “to prove to her highness of Saint-Dizier, that I have an affectionate friend—that I have, in fact, every happiness.”