Chapter 56

Chapter LVI:
Story of a Dryad and a Naiad.

Every one had partaken of the banquet at the chateau, and afterwards
assumed their full court dresses. The usual hour for the repast was five
o'clock. If we say, then, that the repast occupied an hour, and the
toilette two hours, everybody was ready about eight o'clock in the
evening. Towards eight o'clock, then, the guests began to arrive at
Madame's, for we have already intimated that it was Madame who "received"
that evening. And at Madame's _soirees_ no one failed to be present; for
the evenings passed in her apartments always had that perfect charm about
them which the queen, that pious and excellent princess, had not been
able to confer upon her _reunions_. For, unfortunately, one of the
advantages of goodness of disposition is that it is far less amusing than
wit of an ill-natured character. And yet, let us hasten to add, that
such a style of wit could not be assigned to Madame, for her disposition
of mind, naturally of the very highest order, comprised too much true
generosity, too many noble impulses and high-souled thoughts, to warrant
her being termed ill-natured. But Madame was endowed with a spirit of
resistance - a gift frequently fatal to its possessor, for it breaks
where another disposition would have bent; the result was that blows did
not become deadened upon her as upon what might be termed the cotton-
wadded feelings of Maria Theresa. Her heart rebounded at each attack,
and therefore, whenever she was attacked, even in a manner that almost
stunned her, she returned blow for blow to any one imprudent enough to
tilt against her.

Was this really maliciousness of disposition or simply waywardness of
character? We regard those rich and powerful natures as like the tree of
knowledge, producing good and evil at the same time; a double branch,
always blooming and fruitful, of which those who wish to eat know how to
detect the good fruit, and from which the worthless and frivolous die who
have eaten of it - a circumstance which is by no means to be regarded as
a great misfortune. Madame, therefore, who had a well-disguised plan in
her mind of constituting herself the second, if not even the principal,
queen of the court, rendered her receptions delightful to all, from the
conversation, the opportunities of meeting, and the perfect liberty she
allowed every one of making any remark he pleased, on the condition,
however, that the remark was amusing or sensible. And it will hardly be
believed, that, by that means, there was less talking among the society
Madame assembled together than elsewhere. Madame hated people who talked
much, and took a remarkably cruel revenge upon them, for she allowed them
to talk. She disliked pretension, too, and never