flowers had begun to shed their fragrance on the air, and to brighten the
aspect of the public gardens. Mad. de la Rocheaimard usually slept the
soundest at this hour, and, hitherto, Adrienne had not hesitated to leave
her, while she went herself to the nearest public promenade, to breathe
the pure air and to gain strength for the day. In future, she was to deny
herself this sweet gratification. It was such a sacrifice, as the innocent
and virtuous, and I may add the tasteful, who are cooped up amid the
unnatural restraints of a town, will best know how to appreciate. Still it
was made without a murmur, though not without a sigh.

When Adrienne laid me on the frame where I was to be ornamented by
her own pretty hands, she regarded me with a look of delight, nay, even
of affection, that I shall never forget. As yet she felt none of the malign
consequences of the self-denial she was about to exert. If not blooming,
her cheeks still retained some of their native color, and her eye,
thoughtful and even sad, was not yet anxious and sunken. She was
pleased with her purchase, and she contemplated prodigies in the way
of results. Adrienne was unusually skillful with the needle, and her taste
had been so highly cultivated, as to make her a perfect mistress of all
the proprieties of patterns. At the time it was thought of making an
offering of all our family to the dauphine, the idea of working the
handkerchiefs was entertained, and some designs of exquisite beauty
and neatness had been prepared. They were not simple, vulgar,
unmeaning ornaments, such as the uncultivated seize upon with avidity
on account of their florid appearance, but well devised drawings, that
were replete with taste and thought, and afforded some apology for the
otherwise senseless luxury contemplated, by aiding in refining the
imagination, and cultivating the intellect. She had chosen one of the
simplest and most beautiful of these designs, intending to transfer it to
my face, by means of the needle.