Now, with her love for the theatre, came also the desire for ornaments. Her costumes remained as before, simple, in good taste, and always modest; but she soon began to adorn her ears with huge rhinestones, which glittered and sparkled like real diamonds. Around her neck she wore strings of false pearls, on her arms bracelets of imitation gold, and combs set with glass jewels.
Her husband frequently remonstrated with her, saying:
“My dear, as you cannot afford to buy real jewelry, you ought to appear adorned with your beauty and modesty alone, which are the rarest ornaments of your sex.”
But she would smile sweetly, and say:
“What can I do? I am so fond of jewelry. It is my only weakness. We cannot change our nature.”
Then she would wind the pearl necklace round her fingers, make the facets of the crystal gems sparkle, and say:
“Look! are they not lovely? One would swear they were real.”
Monsieur Lantin would then answer, smilingly:
“You have bohemian tastes, my dear.”
Sometimes, of an evening, when they were enjoying a tete-a-tete by the fireside, she would place on the tea table the morocco leather box containing the “trash,” as Monsieur Lantin called it. She would examine the false gems with a passionate attention, as though they imparted some deep and secret joy; and she often persisted in passing a necklace around her husband's neck, and, laughing heartily, would exclaim: “How droll you look!” Then she would throw herself into his arms, and kiss him affectionately.