“That is the way with Nature,” replied the countess;
"she always distributes her gifts with an impartial hand.
Stupidity and beauty go hand in hand, and wit and ugliness
are seldom separated. I have an example of this in my
own family. A few days ago a great-grandniece was sent
to me, a child under ten years old, that has no other rela¬
tive. She is as tawny as a frog, as scraggy as a spider, yet,
withal, as cunning as an ape, and as learned as a book.
Judge for yourself, sire; here is my little monster coming
to salute you."
Bizarre turned his head and saw a child that answered
in every respect to the countess’s description. With
a high, round forehead, black, wild-looking eyes, rough
hair turned back in the Chinese fashion, dull, brown
skin, great white teeth, red hands, and long arms, she
was anything but a beauty. But the chrysalis gives
birth to the butterfly. Wait a few years, and you will
see what pretty women come from these frightful little
girls of ten.
The little monster approached the king, and courtesied
to him with so serious an air that Bizarre could not help
laughing, though he felt little like it.
“Who are you?” asked he, chucking the child under the