en to her own eyes,
horrible in comparison with the fresh toilets of Beatrix and Camille.
She was painfully aware of the stockings soiled among the rocks as
she had jumped from the boat, of shabby leather shoes, chosen for the
purpose of not spoiling better ones on the journey,--a fixed principle
in the manners and customs of provincials.

As for the Vicomtesse de Kergarouet, she might stand as the type of a
provincial woman. Tall, hard, withered, full of pretensions, which
did not show themselves until they were mortified, talking much, and
catching, by dint of talking (as one cannons at billiards), a few
ideas, which gave her the reputation of wit, endeavoring to humiliate
Parisians, whenever she met them, with an assumption of country wisdom
and patronage, humbling herself to be exalted and furious at being left
upon her knees; fishing, as the English say, for compliments, which she
never caught; dressed in clothes that were exaggerated in style, and yet
ill cared for; mistaking want of good manners for dignity, and trying
to embarrass others by paying no attention to them; refusing what she
desired in order to have it offered again, and to seem to yield only
to entreaty; concerned about matters that others have done with, and
surprised at not being in the fashion; and finally, unable to get
through an hour without reference to Nantes, matters of social life
in Nantes, complaints of Nantes, criticism of Nantes, and taking as
personalities the remarks she forced out of absent-minded or wearied
listeners.

Her manners, language, and ideas had, more or less, descended to her
four daughters. To know Camille Maupin and Madame de Rochefide would
be for her a future, and the topic of a hundred conversations.
Consequently, she advanced toward the church as if she meant to take
it by assault, waving her handkerchief, unfolded for the purpose of
displaying the heavy corners of domestic embroidery, and trimmed with
flimsy lace. Her gait was tolerably bold and cavalier, which, however,
was of no consequence in a woman forty-seven years of age.

"Monsieur le chevalier," she said to Camille and Beatrix, pointing to
Calyste, who was mournfully following with Charlotte, "has conveyed
to me your friendly proposal, but we fear--my sister, my daughter, and
myself--to inconvenience you."

"Sister, I shall not put these ladies to inconvenience," said
Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel, sharply; "I can very well find a horse in
Saint-Nazaire t