"As for that," said the doctor, affecting a profound indifference, "we
medical men are pretty safe from personal enmities."

"Nay, my dear M. Baleinier! Mme. de Saint-Dizier and her friends never
forgive," said the young girl, with a shudder. "It needed all my
invincible aversion, my innate horror for all that is base, cowardly, and
perfidious, to induce me to break so openly with her. But if death itself
were the penalty, I could not hesitate and yet," she added, with one of
those graceful smiles which gave such a charm to her beautiful
countenance, "yet I am fond of life: if I have to reproach myself with
anything, it is that I would have it too bright, too fair, too
harmonious; but then, you know, I am resigned to my faults."

"Well, come, I am more tranquil," said the doctor, gayly; "for you
smile--that is a good sign."

"It is often the wisest course; and yet, ought I smile, after the threats
that my aunt has held out to me? Still, what can she do? what is the
meaning of this kind of family council? Did she seriously think that the
advice of a M. D'Aigrigny or a M. Tripeaud could have influenced me? And
then she talked of rigorous measures. What measures can she take; do you
know?"

"I think, between ourselves, that the princess only wished to frighten
you, and hopes to succeed by persuasion. She has the misfortune to fancy
herself a mother of the Church, and dreams of your conversion," said the
doctor, maliciously, for he now wished to tranquillize Adrienne at any
cost; "but let us think no more about it. Your fire eyes must shine with
all their lustre, to fascinate the minister that we are going to see."