an object has been sensibly influenced by the recollection of the
little trifle that caught your eye at the first glance. What young
girl victim of first impressions has not refused one or two husbands on
account of a waistcoat too loose, a cravat badly tied, an inopportune
sneeze, a foolish smile, or a boot too pointed at the toe?

One does not like admitting to one's self that such trifles can serve as
a base to the opinion one has of any one, and one must seek attentively
in order to discover within one's mind these unacknowledged germs.

I recollect quite well that the first time I had the honor of calling
on Madame de M., I noticed that one of her teeth, the first molar on
the right, was quite black. I only caught a glimpse of the little black
monster, such was the care taken to hide it, yet I could not get
this discovery out of my head. I soon noticed that Madame de M. made
frightful grimaces to hide her tooth, and that she took only
the smallest possible mouthfuls at table to spare the nervous
susceptibilities of the little monster.

I arrived at the pitch of accounting for all the mental and physical
peculiarities of Madame de M. by the presence of this slight blemish,
and despite myself this black tooth personified the Countess so well
that even now, although it has been replaced by another magnificent one,
twice as big and as white as the bottom of a plate, even now, I say,
Madame de M. can not open her mouth without my looking naturally at it.

But to return to our subject. Amid all this conjugal happiness, so
delightfully surrounded, face to face with dear old Oscar, so good, so
confiding, so much in love with this little cherub in a Louis XV dress,
who carried grace and naivete to so strange a pitch, I had been struck
by the too well combed and foppish head of the cousin in the white
waistcoat. This head had attracted my attention like the stain on the
ceiling of which I spoke just now, like the Countess's black tooth, and
despite myself I did not take my eyes off the angler as he passed the
silver blade of his knife through a slice of that indigestible fruit
which I like to see on the plates of others, but can not tolerate on my
own.

After dinner, which lasted a very long time, we went into the garden,
where coffee had been served, and stretched ourselves out beatifically,
cigar in mouth. All was calm and silent about us, the insects had ceased
their music, and in an opaline sky little violet clouds w