Madame d'Aubonne looked at her daughter with a smile, and this smile prevented Eudoxia from being irritated by the remark.
When in the carriage, Madame de Croissy, feeling too warm, wished to put down one of the windows, "provided," she again said, "that it will not give Mademoiselle Eudoxia cold." Madame d'Aubonne and her daughter again glanced at each other, with a scarcely perceptible smile, and Eudoxia found that there is a great pleasure in feeling, in our own conscience, that we are better than others take us to be.
She enjoyed herself very much in the park. In the evening, she felt some regret at losing the drive home in the calèche, on a beautiful moonlight night; but at last she retired to rest, pleased with the day's amusement, pleased with herself, and pleased with the satisfaction she had given her mother, who, during the whole day, was more than usually attentive to her, calling her whenever she saw anything pretty, and experiencing no pleasure unless shared by her.
The following morning, a painter, with whom Madame de Rivry was acquainted, called en passant at Romecourt; he was on his way back to Paris, and had only half an hour to spend at the château.
Whilst the breakfast was preparing, he expressed a wish to see the drawings of the young ladies, and Adèle was ordered to show them. Eudoxia and herself had undertaken to copy from the antique a beautiful head of a vestal, and Adèle, though according to custom, she had scarcely worked at all, yet, according to custom also, she had told her grandmamma that her drawing was finished, and Madame de Croissy, who never looked at her work, made no further inquiries about it. However, as she could not exhibit this drawing, she determined to show as her own the one which Eudoxia had done. The artist was delighted with it, and it was, indeed, the best thing Eudoxia had ever done. While he was still examining it, Madame de Croissy called Adèle into the garden, and with her usual thoughtlessness she ran off without putting away the drawing; during this time Madame d'Aubonne and Eudoxia entered by another door.
"Here is a beautiful head drawn by Mademoiselle Adèle!" said the painter.
"By Adèle?" said Eudoxia, blushing, and looking at her mother.
"I do not think it can be Adèle's," said Madame d'Aubonne.
"Oh! I beg your pardon," said the painter, "she told me so herself;" and going to the door which led into the garden, where Adèle was standing on the step, talking to her grandmamma, he said to her, "Is not the drawing you have just shown me your work, mademoiselle?"