"Ah! if I had lost them!" said Amelia: but a sign from her sister imposed silence on her.
"Adela seems very gentle and sensible," observed the princess. Adela cast down her eyes, not daring to look at her mother or sister.
All this lasted several days. At table, Madame de Vaucourt's old servant, who was not very alert, and had more to do than usual, could not wait on Adela as attentively as on other occasions, and was surprised not to hear her say sharply, "Chambéri, do you not mean to give me a plate?" He remarked to her, "Gracious! Miss Adela, how gentle and well-behaved you have become lately!" "That is because she is afraid of the princess," said the mischievous little Amelia, laughing. Adela, who began to lose patience, was sometimes on the point of forgetting herself, but Amelia would then take flight and run into the drawing-room, laughing, as she knew that Adela would not venture to scold her there, while Stanislas, of whom she had made an intimate friend, joined in her laughter without understanding its cause. Adela, though burning with impatience, endeavoured to smile lest some indiscretion on Amelia's part might betray to others the cause of her ill-humour. Her temper, however, would have obtained the mastery at last; and she was beginning sometimes to treat Stanislas and the little dog rather harshly, when, fortunately, the princess took her departure. For the first few days afterwards the effect of the habit which Adela had acquired of restraining her temper was still visible; but as Amelia had also got the habit of fearing her less, and laughing at her, it was not long before the old disputes were renewed. They first began about the chair, which Amelia took without ceremony, even removing her sister's work, which had been left there, as if to keep the place in her absence.
Adela became angry. "I thought that fancy was over?" said Madame de Vaucourt.
"Oh, mamma," replied Amelia, "that was only on account of the princess."
Madame de Vaucourt observed that Adela must have felt there was something very absurd in such childishness, since she was ashamed to show it before the princess; and she hoped, therefore, that they should hear no more of it. The argument was unanswerable, and besides Madame de Vaucourt's tone forbade reply. Adela therefore contented herself with leaving the room, slamming the door with all her might. Her mother called her back.
"My dear," she said, "when the princess was here you used to shut the doors gently, and as that proves to me that you can do so without great inconvenience, I beg you will do it in future."
Thus obliged to close the door quietly, Adela went into the garden to exhale her ill-temper, since she saw that it was now determined to allow no excuse for it. During their evening walk, it happened that the path they had to take was very dirty. Adela said it was insupportable.
"Surely," replied her mother, "you do not mean to let that disturb you? The other day when we were walking with the princess, the mud was ten times as bad, yet you never made the least complaint."
"I found it very disagreeable though."