Yes; Adrienne wept, for she now felt the reaction from the painful scenes
through which she had passed at Saint-Dizier House; to the feverish and
nervous excitement, which had till then sustained her, had succeeded a
sorrowful dejection. Resolute in her independence, proud in her disdain,
implacable in her irony, audacious in her resistance to unjust
oppression, Adrienne was yet endowed with the most acute sensibility,
which she always dissembled, however, in the presence of her aunt and
those who surrounded her.

Notwithstanding her courage, no one could have been less masculine, less
of a virago, than Mdlle. Cardoville. She was essentially womanly, but as
a woman, she knew how to exercise great empire over herself, the moment
that the least mark of weakness on her part would have rejoiced or
emboldened her enemies.

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,