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Updated: June 22, 2025
Albertine poured forth the warmest expressions of gratitude.
She now turned to Madame Morien, still smiling, still playing with the glass. "Well, and your name, my dear Madame Morien?" said she, looking into the glass which she held clasped in her fingers. "She is called 'Le Tourbillon," exclaimed the prince royal, laughing. "Antoinette, Louise, Albertine, are my names," said Madame Morien, hesitatingly.
At two o'clock he returned once more. "Madame cannot see anybody yet," reported Albertine, "but she gave me a line for you." "Cannot see anybody yet?" repeated Lucien. "But I am not anybody " "I do not know," Albertine answered very impertinently; and Lucien, less surprised by Albertine's answer than by a note from Mme. de Bargeton, took the billet, and read the following discouraging lines:
Evidently here is comfort, here is good fortune. Commissionsrath! Miss Albertine! I choose the silver one." Albertine rose and handed him a little key, with which he opened the casket. Great was his consternation to find, not Albertine's portrait, but a little book bound in parchment, which, when he opened it, appeared to consist of blank white pages.
I shall remain here till you have arrived at a truer opinion concerning my unworthy person, dearest Miss Albertine." "Go; go!" reiterated Albertine, running into a corner of the room, and covering her face with her handkerchief.
It would weary you very needlessly, dear reader, were I to waste words in telling you what you know quite well; namely, that Edmund Lehsen chose the ivory casket, inscribed "Who chooseth me doth gain his dreamed-of bliss," and found in it a beautiful portrait of Albertine, with the lines "Yes thou hast it read thy chance In thy darling's loving glance.
In addition to these worthy mothers, some old society women had obtained permission of the prioress, like Madame Albertine, to retire into the Little Convent. Among the number were Madame Beaufort d'Hautpoul and Marquise Dufresne. Another was never known in the convent except by the formidable noise which she made when she blew her nose.
In the height of their blissfulness the two lovers had not heard the elephantine tread of Tussmann's peculiar boot-like shoes, nor his opening of the door, nor his coming in, and striding into the middle of the room. He now squeaked out, in his high falsetto: "But Miss Albertine Bosswinkel!
"Hm!" said the Goldsmith, "there's something queer, too, which I want to speak to you about. I was at the Thiergarten just before I came here, and I found your old friend and schoolfellow, Tussmann, going to jump into the water because Albertine wouldn't have anything to say to him.
She possessed a strange spectral grace. Wherever she entered, people felt cold. One day a sister, on seeing her pass, said to another sister, "She passes for a dead woman." "Perhaps she is one," replied the other. A hundred tales were told of Madame Albertine. This arose from the eternal curiosity of the pupils. In the chapel there was a gallery called L'OEil de Boeuf.
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