have made you sooner feel my authority; but the moment has come to submit
yourself; the severe censures of my friends have enlightened me in time.
Your character is self-willed, independent, stubborn; it must
change--either by fair means or by force, understand me, it shall
change."

At these words, pronounced harshly before strangers, with a severity
which did not seem at all justified by circumstances, Adrienne tossed her
head proudly; but, restraining herself, she answered with a smile: "You
say, aunt, that I shall change. I should not be astonished at it. We hear
of such odd conversions."

The princess bit her lips.

"A sincere conversion can never be called odd, as you term it, madame,"
said Abbe d'Aigrigny, coldly. "It is, on the contrary, meritorious, and
forms an excellent example."

"Excellent?" answered Adrienne: "that depends! For instance, what if one
converts defects into vices?"

"What do you mean, madame?" cried the princess.

"I am speaking of myself, aunt; you reproach me of being independent and
resolute--suppose I were to become hypocritical and wicked? In truth, I
prefer keeping my dear little faults, which I love like spoiled children.
I know what I am; I do not know what I might be."

"But you must acknowledge, Mdlle. Adrienne," said Baron Tripeaud, with a
self-conceited and sententious air, "that a conversion--"