“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.
“Madame, I do not forget—I remember, like other people; that is all. I had no relation of whom I could ask an asylum. I wished to live alone. I wished to enjoy my revenues—because I chose rather to spend them myself, than to see them wasted by M. Tripeaud.”