"I assure you, nevertheless," said Madame de Croissy, in the same tone, "that if you had heard Mademoiselle Eudoxia, and the advice she gives, you could not doubt that she was the most skilful young lady of her age."
The painter looked at Eudoxia with astonishment. She felt indignant, but her mother, who was seated near her, pressed her hand beneath the table, in order to calm her. She could not eat, and immediately after breakfast, she went into the garden, where her mother followed her, and found her crying with vexation and impatience.
"What is the matter, my dearest Eudoxia?" said she, pressing her tenderly in her arms.
"Really, mamma," said Eudoxia, much agitated, "this is very hard, and Madame de Croissy again...."
"What does the injustice of Madame de Croissy matter to you? Which of us believes a word of what she says?"
"But the painter will believe it. Indeed I should have said nothing before her; but why must he think that my drawing was done by Adèle? Mamma, you have encouraged Adèle's falsehood," she added, in a tone of reproach.
"I have nothing to do with the education of Adèle," replied Madame d'Aubonne, "whereas I am responsible for yours; it is my duty to foster your virtues as I would my own, and to point out to you your duty, without thinking of that of other people."
"It was not my duty," replied Eudoxia, more mildly, "to allow it to be thought that my drawing was Adèle's."
"It was certainly not the duty of one who aspires to nothing more than to be able to draw well, but it was the duty of one who wishes to possess more strength and virtue than another, not to sacrifice the reputation of a companion to her own self-love. Tell me, my child, if in order to save yourself the slight vexation of being considered less clever than Adèle, you had in the presence of this artist covered her with the disgrace of having told a falsehood, would you not now feel very much embarrassed in her presence?"