y years, were interrupted now and then by narratives of events
in the town, or by discussions on public events. Sometimes the players
would sit for half an hour, their cards held fan-shape on their
stomachs, engaged in talking. If, as a result of these inattentions, a
counter was missing from the basket, every one eagerly declared that he
or she had put in their proper number. Usually the chevalier made up the
deficiency, being accused by the rest of thinking so much of his buzzing
ears, his chilly chest, and other symptoms of invalidism that he must
have forgotten his stake. But no sooner did he supply the missing
counter than Zephirine and Jacqueline were seized with remorse; they
imagined that, possibly, they themselves had forgotten their stake; they
believed--they doubted--but, after all, the chevalier was rich enough
to bear such a trifling misfortune. These dignified and noble personages
had the delightful pettiness of suspecting each other. Mademoiselle de
Pen-Hoel would almost invariably accuse the rector of cheating when he
won the basket.

"It is singular," he would reply, "that I never cheat except when I win
the trick."

Often the baron would forget where he was when the talk fell on the
misfortunes of the royal house. Sometimes the evening ended in a manner
that was quite unexpected to the players, who all counted on a certain
gain. After a certain number of games and when the hour grew late, these
excellent people would be forced to separate without either loss or
gain, but not without emotion. On these sad evenings complaints were
made of _mouche_ itself; it was dull, it was long; the players accused
their _mouche_ as Negroes stone the moon in the water when the weather
is bad. On one occasion, after an arrival of the Vicomte and Vicomtesse
de Kergarouet, there was talk of whist and boston being games of
more interest than _mouche_. The baroness, who was bored by _mouche_,
encouraged the innovation, and all the company--but not without
reluctance--adopted it. But it proved impossible to make them really
understand the new games, which, on the departure of the Kergarouets,
were voted head-splitters, algebraic problems, and intolerably difficult
to play. All preferred their _mouche_, their dear, agreeable _mouche_.
_Mouche_ accordingly triumphed over modern games, as all ancient things
have ever triumphed in Brittany over novelties.

While the rector was dealing the cards the baroness was asking the
Che