The carriage had rolled onwards for some minutes; but Adrienne, drying her tears in silence, to the doctor's great astonishment, had not yet uttered a word.
"What, my dear Mdlle.Adrienne?" said M.Baleinier, truly surprised at her emotion; "what! you, that were just now so courageous, weeping?"
"Yes," answered Adrienne, in an agitated voice; "I weep in presence of a friend; but, before my aunt--oh! never."
"And yet, in that long interview, your stinging replies "
"Ah me! do you think that I resigned myself with pleasure to that war of sarcasm? Nothing is more painful to me than such combats of bitter irony, to which I am forced by the necessity of defending myself from this woman and her friends.You speak of my courage: it does not consist, I assure you, in the display of wicked feelings--but in the power to repress and hide all that I suffer, when I hear myself treated so grossly--in the presence, too, of people that I hate and despise--
when, after all, I have never done them any harm, and have only asked to be allowed to live alone, freely and quietly, and see those about me happy."
"That's where it is: they envy your happiness, and that which you bestow upon others."
"And it is my aunt," cried Adrienne, with indignation, "my aunt, whose whole life has been one long scandal that accuses me in this revolting manner!--as if she did not know me proud and honest enough never to make a choice of which I should be ashamed! Oh! if I ever love, I shall proclaim it, I shall be proud of it: for love, as I understand it, is the most glorious feeling in the world.But, alas!" continued Adrienne, with redoubled bitterness, "of what use are truth and honor, if they do not secure you from suspicions, which are as absurd as they are odious?" So saying, she again pressed her handkerchief to her eyes.
"Come, my dear Mdlle.Adrienne," said M.Baleinier, in a voice full of the softest unction, "becalm--it is all over now.You have in me a devoted friend." As he pronounced these last words, he blushed in spite of his diabolical craft.