“You are not like me then,” replied the little girl, “I am always changing my mind. Yesterday, what I wished for most in the world was a set of cups and saucers of Sèvres china for my doll; this morning I wanted most a coral necklace for myself; then I wanted an ermine muff; and now I want to buy your horse. Don’t I change my mind often? But your horse I really wish for very much: the fact is I never saw one like it at any toy-shop.”
“I should think not,” said Maurice.
“But I shall only care for it, you know, till I have a real pony. My papa has promised to buy me a real pony in a year.”
“Your papa is rich then?”
“Is my papa rich! I should think so indeed. My papa is a wine-merchant, and he has made thousands upon thousands and millions upon millions in his business: he’s going to make a great deal more yet too, I can tell you.”
This heaping up of millions upon millions caused Maurice to open his eyes very wide.
“What is your name?” he asked of the young girl.
“I am called Adrienne,” she replied.
“Adrienne what?”
“Adrienne Fallachon, since you wish to know. But that will not be my name always, for my papa intends me to marry a duke or a prince when I am old enough. Some little girls I know turn up their noses at me because my papa is a wine-merchant, and I told him of it one day. Oh, he was in such a passion! What names he did call them! He took me up on his knee, and said he loved me doubly since my mamma died; and he declared he would make such a deal of money to give me when I marry that I should be a princess, or a duchess at the least. That’s what he said: isn’t he a good papa?”