"You say well, sir," replied Adrienne, in a collected and perfectly calm
voice; "let us talk like friends. You wish to make me pass for mad--is it
not so?"

"I wish, my dear child, that one day you may feel towards me as much
gratitude as you now do aversion. The latter I had fully foreseen--but,
however painful may be the performance of certain duties, we must resign
ourselves to it."

M. Baleinier sighed, as he said this, with such a natural air of
conviction, that for a moment Adrienne could not repress a movement of
surprise; then, while her lip curled with a bitter laugh, she answered:
"Oh, it's very clear, you have done all this for my good?"

"Really, my dear young lady--have I ever had any other design than to be
useful to you?"

"I do not know, sir, if your impudence be not still more odious than your
cowardly treachery!"

"Treachery!" said M. Baleinier, shrugging his shoulders with a grieved
air; "treachery, indeed! Only reflect, my poor child--do you think, if I
were not acting with good faith, conscientiously, in your interest, I
should return this morning to meet your indignation, for which I was
fully prepared? I am the head physician of this asylum, which belongs to
me--but I have two of my pupils here, doctors, like myself--and might
have left them to take care of you but, no--I could not consent to it--I
knew your character, your nature, your previous history, and (leaving out
of the question the interest I feel for you) I can treat your case better
than any one."