owered silk gown
and a cap trimmed with ribbons, and when she spoke it was in a sharp,
quick voice. Her husband was in a tight frock-coat; his hair looked as
if it had been waxed, and his nose, his eyes, his long teeth and his
coat, which was evidently his best one, all shone as if they had been
polished with the greatest care. He returned his visitors' bow with a
bend of the knees.

When the ordinary complimentary phrases had been exchanged no one knew
what to say next, so they all politely expressed their pleasure at
making this new acquaintance and hoped it would be a lasting one; for,
living as they did in the country all the year round, an occasional
visit made an agreable change. The icy air of the drawing-room froze the
very marrow of their bones, and the baroness was seized by a fit of
coughing, interrupted at intervals by a sneeze. The baron rose to go.

"You are not going to leave us already? Pray, stay a little longer,"
said the Brisevilles.

But Jeanne followed her father's example in spite of all the signs made
her by Julien, who thought they were leaving too soon. The vicomtesse
would have rung to order the baron's carriage, but the bell was out of
order, so the vicomte went to find a servant. He soon returned, to say
that the horses had been taken out, and the carriage would not be ready
for some minutes. Everyone tried to find some subject of conversation;
the rainy winter was discussed, and Jeanne, who could not prevent
herself shivering, try as she would, asked if their hosts did not find
it very dull living alone all the year round. Such a question astounded
the Brisevilles. Their time was always fully occupied, what with writing
long letters to their numerous aristocratic relations and pompously
discussing the most trivial matters, for in all their useless, petty
occupations, they were as formally polite to each other as they would
have been to utter strangers. At last the carriage, with its two
ill-matched steeds, drew up before the door, but Marius was nowhere to
be seen; he had gone for a walk in the fields, thinking he would not be
wanted again until the evening. Julien, in a great rage, left word for
him to be sent after them on foot, and, after a great many bows and
compliments, they started for Les Peuples again.

As soon as they were fairly off, Jeanne and the baron, in spite of the
uncomfortable feeling that Julien's ill-temper had caused, began to
laugh and joke about the Brisevilles' w