et ribbon upon her neck,
the only bit of feminine jewelry that there was in the house, a very
white fichu puffing out from a gown of coarse black woollen stuff, with
large, short sleeves, an apron of cotton cloth in red and green checks,
knotted round the waist with a green ribbon, with a stomacher of the
same attached by two pins at the upper corners, coarse shoes on her
feet, and yellow stockings, like the women of Marseilles. Mademoiselle
Baptistine's gown was cut on the patterns of 1806, with a short waist,
a narrow, sheath-like skirt, puffed sleeves, with flaps and buttons.
She concealed her gray hair under a frizzed wig known as the baby wig.
Madame Magloire had an intelligent, vivacious, and kindly air; the two
corners of her mouth unequally raised, and her upper lip, which was
larger than the lower, imparted to her a rather crabbed and imperious
look. So long as Monseigneur held his peace, she talked to him
resolutely with a mixture of respect and freedom; but as soon as
Monseigneur began to speak, as we have seen, she obeyed passively like
her mistress. Mademoiselle Baptistine did not even speak. She confined
herself to obeying and pleasing him. She had never been pretty, even
when she was young; she had large, blue, prominent eyes, and a long
arched nose; but her whole visage, her whole person, breathed forth an
ineffable goodness, as we stated in the beginning. She had always been
predestined to gentleness; but faith, charity, hope, those three virtues
which mildly warm the soul, had gradually elevated that gentleness to
sanctity. Nature had made her a lamb, religion had made her an angel.
Poor sainted virgin! Sweet memory which has vanished!

Mademoiselle Baptistine has so often narrated what passed at the
episcopal residence that evening, that there are many people now living
who still recall the most minute details.

At the moment when the Bishop entered, Madame Magloire was talking with
considerable vivacity. She was haranguing Mademoiselle Baptistine on
a subject which was familiar to her and to which the Bishop was also
accustomed. The question concerned the lock upon the entrance door.

It appears that while procuring some provisions for supper, Madame
Magloire had heard things in divers places. People had spoken of a
prowler of evil appearance; a suspicious vagabond had arrived who must
be somewhere about the town, and those who should take it into their
heads to return home late that night might be