"
Angelique felt highly flattered by the praise of Amelie, whom she
had sometimes condescended to envy for her graceful figure and
lovely, expressive features.
"Gentlemen often speak as you do, Amelie," continued she, "but,
pshaw! they cannot judge as girls do, you know. But do you really
think me beautiful? and how beautiful? Compare me to some one we
know."
"I can only compare you to yourself, Angelique. You are more
beautiful than any one I know," Amelie burst out in frank
enthusiasm.
"But, really and truly, do you think me beautiful, not only in your
eyes, but in the judgment of the world?"
Angelique brushed back her glorious hair and stared fixedly in the
face of her friend, as if seeking confirmation of something in her
own thoughts.
"What a strange question, Angelique! Why do you ask me in that
way?"
"Because," replied she with bitterness, "I begin to doubt it. I
have been praised for my good looks until I grow weary of the
iteration; but I believed the lying flattery once,--as what woman
would not, when it is repeated every day of her life?"
Amelie looked sufficiently puzzled.
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