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light on some which are fearfully dull。 What modern literature I have
read all turns upon love； the subject which used to bulk so largely in
our thoughts； because it seemed that our fate was determined by man
and for man。 But how inferior are these authors to two little girls；
known as Sweetheart and Darlingotherwise Renee and Louise。 Ah！ my
love； what wretched plots； what ridiculous situations； and what
poverty of sentiment！ Two books； however； have given me wonderful
pleasure/Corinne/ and /Adolphe/。 Apropos of this； I asked my father
one day whether it would be possible for me to see Mme。 de Stael。 My
father； mother； and Alphonse all burst out laughing； and Alphonse
said：
〃Where in the world has she sprung from？〃
To which my father replied：
〃What fools we are！ She springs from the Carmelites。〃
〃My child； Mme。 de Stael is dead；〃 said my mother gently。
When I finished /Adolphe/； I asked Miss Griffith how a woman could be
betrayed。
〃Why； of course； when she loves；〃 was her reply。
Renee； tell me； do you think we could be betrayed by a man？
Miss Griffith has at last discerned that I am not an utter ignoramus；
that I have somewhere a hidden vein of knowledge； the knowledge we
learned from each other in our random arguments。 She sees that it is
only superficial facts of which I am ignorant。 The poor thing has
opened her heart to me。 Her curt reply to my question； when I compare
it with all the sorrows I can imagine； makes me feel quite creepy。
Once more she urged me not to be dazzled by the glitter of society； to
be always on my guard； especially against what most attracted me。 This
is the sum…total of her wisdom； and I can get nothing more out of her。
Her lectures； therefore； become a trifle monotonous； and she might be
compared in this respect to the bird which has only one cry。
III
THE SAME TO THE SAME
December。
My Darling；Here I am ready to make my bow to the world。 By way of
preparation I have been trying to commit all the follies I could think
of before sobering down for my entry。 This morning； I have seen
myself； after many rehearsals； well and duly equippedstays； shoes；
curls； dress； ornaments；all in order。 Following the example of
duelists before a meeting； I tried my arms in the privacy of my
chamber。 I wanted to see how I would look； and had no difficulty in
discovering a certain air of victory and triumph； bound to carry all
before it。 I mustered all my forces； in accordance with that splendid
maxim of antiquity； 〃Know thyself！〃 and boundless was my delight in
thus making my own acquaintance。 Griffith was the sole spectator of
this doll's play； in which I was at once doll and child。 You think you
know me？ You are hugely mistaken。
Here is a portrait； then； Renee； of your sister； formerly disguised as
a Carmelite； now brought to life again as a frivolous society girl。
She is one of the greatest beauties in FranceProvence； of course；
excepted。 I don't see that I can give a more accurate summary of this
interesting topic。
True； I have my weak points； but were I a man； I should adore them。
They arise from what is most promising in me。 When you have spent a
fortnight admiring the exquisite curves of your mother's arms； and
that mother the Duchesse de Chaulieu； it is impossible； my dear； not
to deplore your own angular elbows。 Yet there is consolation in
observing the fineness of the wrist； and a certain grace of line in
those hollows； which will yet fill out and show plump； round； and well
modeled； under the satiny skin。 The somewhat crude outline of the arms
is seen again in the shoulders。 Strictly speaking； indeed； I have no
shoulders； but only two bony blades； standing out in harsh relief。 My
figure also lacks pliancy； there is a stiffness about the side lines。
Poof！ There's the worst out。 But then the contours are bold and
delicate； the bright； pure flame of health bites into the vigorous
lines； a flood of life and of blue blood pulses under the transparent
skin； and the fairest daughter of Eve would seem a Negress beside me！
I have the foot of a gazelle！ My joints are finely turned； my features
of a Greek correctness。 It is true； madame； that the flesh tints do
not melt into each other； but； at least； they stand out clear and
bright。 In short； I am a very pretty green fruit； with all the charm
of unripeness。 I see a great likeness to the face in my aunt's old
missal； which rises out of a violet lily。
There is no silly weakness in the blue of my insolent eyes； the white
is pure mother…of…pearl； prettily marked with tiny veins； and the
thick； long lashes fall like a silken fringe。 My forehead sparkles；
and the hair grows deliciously； it ripples into waves of pale gold；
growing browner towards the centre； whence escape little rebel locks；
which alone would tell that my fairness is not of the insipid and
hysterical type。 I am a tropical blonde； with plenty of blood in my
veins； a blonde more apt to strike than to turn the cheek。 What do you
think the hairdresser proposed？ He wanted； if you please； to smooth my
hair into two bands； and place over my forehead a pearl； kept in place
by a gold chain！ He said it would recall the Middle Ages。
I told him I was not aged enough to have reached the middle； or to
need an ornament to freshen me up！
The nose is slender； and the well…cut nostrils are separated by a
sweet little pink partitionan imperious； mocking nose； with a tip
too sensitive ever to grow fat or red。 Sweetheart； if this won't find
a husband for a dowerless maiden； I'm a donkey。 The ears are daintily
curled； a pearl hanging from either lobe would show yellow。 The neck
is long； and has an undulating motion full of dignity。 In the shade
the white ripens to a golden tinge。 Perhaps the mouth is a little
large。 But how expressive！ what a color on the lips！ how prettily the
teeth laugh！
Then； dear； there is a harmony running through all。 What a gait！ what
a voice！ We have not forgotten how our grandmother's skirts fell into
place without a touch。 In a word； I am lovely and charming。 When the
mood comes； I can laugh one of our good old laughs； and no one will
think the less of me； the dimples； impressed by Comedy's light fingers
on my fair cheeks； will command respect。 Or I can let my eyes fall and
my heart freeze under my snowy brows。 I can pose as a Madonna with
melancholy； swan…like neck； and the painters' virgins will be nowhere；
my place in heaven would be far above them。 A man would be forced to
chant when he spoke to me。
So； you see； my panoply is complete； and I can run the whole gamut of
coquetry from deepest bass to shrillest treble。 It is a huge advantage
not to be all of one piece。 Now； my mother is neither playful nor
virginal。 Her only attitude is an imposing one； when she ceases to be
majestic； she is ferocious。 It is difficult for her to heal the wounds
she makes； whereas I can wound and heal together。 We are absolutely
unlike； and therefore there could not possibly be rivalry between us；
unless indeed we quarreled over the greater or less perfection of our
extremities； which are similar。 I take after my father； who is shrewd
and subtle。 I have the manner of my gra