On the first day of May, Madame de Clinville, the widow of a Notary of Paris, conducted her daughter, fourteen years of age, to the delightful garden of the Tuileries, there to breathe the pure air of spring and the sweet perfumes from its flowers. In passing through the walks leading to the royal palace, the young lady's attention was attracted by one of the shops, supplied with the choicest and most rare fruits; among which was a bunch of cherries, arranged with so much taste, and so prettily intermixed with fresh green leaves, that she could not forbear expressing to her mother her anxious desire to have those cherries, notwithstanding she could foresee at that season they must be extravagantly dear. Madame de Clinville, who never denied her daughter anything, and who was in general very plain and moderate in her inclinations, purchased the bunch of cherries, although dear, and proceeded with her dear Emmelina—her daughter's name—to the Tuileries.

Having surveyed the beautiful walks of this truly enchanted place, they seated themselves on chairs under[Pg 243] the shade of a large chestnut tree. It was scarcely ten o'clock in the morning, the hour most agreeable for walking, and frequently the most retired, as the fashionables of Paris seldom make their appearance before three or four o'clock, and in a déshabille that bespeaks them just arisen from their beds, as if to behold the sun for the first time. As such, Madame de Clinville and her daughter met with very little company.

The only object that struck their attention was a lady with the remains of beauty, whose external appearance indicated a person of quality, accompanied by a young lady, nearly Emmelina's age, dressed in white and a small green hat ornamented with a wreath of white pearls, which shaded the most amiable countenance. They both came and seated themselves near Madame and Miss de Clinville, when the young stranger could not keep her eyes from the bunch of cherries, and remarked to the lady who was with her: 'How fresh and beautiful they are!' Anxiety was depicted in her eyes and in every action, and at length, slowly advancing towards Emmelina, with the most affable condescension, she said: 'What a delicious nosegay you have there, miss! The freshness of it can only be compared with your complexion.'

'It would be a better comparison with your own,' answered Madame de Clinville; 'for, with your pretty green hat, one might justly say: "Behold the cherry under the leaf."'

'It is surprising to me,' added the young stranger, 'that miss does not eat these fine cherries, no less gratifying to the taste than sight.'

'They are my mother's gift,' modestly answered Emmelina, 'and, being so rare, I really cannot enjoy them alone. If you, miss, will condescend to divide[Pg 244] them with me!—the happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.'

'These last words, which Emmelina pronounced in the most expressive manner, made a lively impression on the young lady.

'How can you withstand a favour said with feelings and sentiments so interesting?' demanded the handsome lady who escorted her; at whose advice, attended with a sign of approbation, the young stranger accepted the first cherry from the delightful bunch.

Emmelina presented the second to her mother, and the stranger offered the third to her charming companion; and the two young folks ate of them by turns till there remained only the leaves. They entered into conversation, when Madame de Clinville endeavoured by several judicious and direct questions to ascertain the name of the pretty green hat; but, perceiving the lady make a sign of caution to the unknown, she ceased further interrogatories, and they mutually adhered to the customary civilities, and separated with assurances of the pleasure so agreeable an interview had excited.

On returning home, Madame de Clinville and her daughter observed that a servant in red livery had followed them, who appeared to examine very minutely the number of the house in which they lived, and from that circumstance concluded the strange lady wished to learn their place of residence, notwithstanding she had taken every precaution to conceal her own, or the most distant knowledge of the young person in the green hat.

Several months having elapsed, Madame de Clinville thought no longer of the Tuileries adventure, when one morning, while at breakfast with Emmelina and Gustavus, her only son—a pupil at the Imperial Academy, seventeen years of age—the porter of the lodge entered the apartment, holding in one hand a ripe pineapple, and in the other a note, directed to Mademoiselle de Clinville, the contents as follows:[Pg 245]
The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.—Page 244. The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.—Page 244.

[Pg 247]

'Having been presented with two pineapples, permit me to offer you one of them, and to recall to mind your own impressive sentiment—The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.

'The Little Green Hat.'

In vain did Madame de Clinville and her children question the porter to know who brought this note. He answered:

'It was a messenger, who, upon leaving the parcel, went away without saying a word.'

Emmelina at once decided upon sharing the pineapple with her mother and brother, which they regarded but as a return for the bunch of cherries; but were still the more perplexed from a desire to know the two strangers. In a short time the porter again entered Madame de Clinville's house with a rich china vase, in which was an orange tree of an uncommon size in full bloom, with a second letter, which was, as usual, directed to Emmelina, and contained these words:

'I received yesterday for my birthday fête, Ste Clotilde, two orange trees like the one sent you; condescend to accept of one. The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.'

The porter informed them it was conveyed by the same person, to whom he had put several useless questions.[Pg 248]

'What!' said Emmelina, 'am I never to know who this charming Clotilde is, with the green hat?'

'Let me try,' said Gustavus; 'I will undertake to find her out. Describe her as exactly as you can.'

'She is about my size,' answered his sister, 'but a much better figure than I am. Her grace displays a prepossessing je ne sais quoi; her regular and noble features are enlivened by an air of sweetness and gaiety that attracts and at the same time interests you; fine auburn hair flows in ringlets on her lovely neck; and the whiteness of her skin adds still greater beauty to her fine large blue eyes, the vivacity and expression of which seem to penetrate to the bottom of your heart, and to guess every thought.'

'From this picture,' said Gustavus, 'I foresee that, if I discover the unknown belle, I shall be repaid for my trouble on beholding her. Rely upon my wish to serve thee, no less than the person in whom I already sensibly feel so many charms are blended to admire.'

Gustavus exerted every effort to meet with the beauty in the green hat, the description of whom was engraven on his heart no less than on his memory. He sought her at all the public walks, theatres, balls, concerts, and, in short, every private society in Paris, yet could not possibly discover the slightest or most distant trace of her.

A month had elapsed when Emmelina, on her return from taking a walk, found upon her work-table a white silk basket, ornamented with embroidery, which, she was informed by her waiting-maid, was brought by a careful person. Not doubting it came from the amiable Clotilde, she opened the basket in her mother's presence, and found it contained every species of sweetmeat accompanied by a polite note, wherein the stranger[Pg 249] mentioned having been a god-mother, and, loaded with presents, she had adopted Emmelina's maxim, which never was obliterated from her remembrance, and which she had actually worked in golden letters in front of the basket, with a bunch of cherries, ornamented with leaves, in embroidery—viz.: 'The happiness of sharing with others that which we possess enhances the value of its enjoyment.'

This tasty specimen of ingenuity created the most pleasing and grateful sensations in the breasts of the Clinville family, who, though distressed beyond measure at receiving so many anonymous gifts, by the manner in which they were offered were obliged to accept them. Emmelina and Gustavus therefore hesitated not to partake of the various and delicious confectionery with which the basket seemed entirely filled, but great was their surprise to discover underneath the sweetmeats half-a-dozen elegant fans, six dozen pairs of gloves, and, lastly, a beautiful white cashmere shawl with a broad border highly and elegantly finished.

'I cannot,' said Emmelina, 'think of wearing these rich articles without knowing from whom they come; simple cherries, offered with a truly hearty welcome, do not merit such considerable presents.'

'I commend thy discretion,' said Madame de Clinville t............