Oh,
mamma, I too shall be beautiful, and beloved by a prince!"
"To be beautiful, darling, you must be good and virtuous," said the
fair odalisque, earnestly.
Little Camilla arose in her bed; the white gown fell from her
shoulders and exposed her soft childish form, her brown ringlets
curled down her neck and lost themselves in her lace-covered dress.
The chandelier that hung from the ceiling lighted her lovely face,
and made the gold and silver embroidered robes and jewels of her
mother sparkle brilliantly.
At this moment, as with folded arms she glanced up at her mother,
she looked like an angel, but she had already dangerous and earthly
thoughts in her heart.
"Mamma," she said, "why should I be virtuous, when you are not?"
Louise trembled, and looked terrified at her daughter. "Who told you
I was not virtuous?"
"My poor, dear papa told me when he was here the last time. Oh, he
told me a great deal, mamma! He told," continued the child, with a
sly smile, "how you loved a beautiful gardener, and ran off with
him, and how he, at the command of the king, married you and saved
you from shame; and he said you were not at all grateful, but had
often betrayed and deceived him, and, because he was so unhappy with
you, he drank so much wine to forget his sorrow.
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