idea. As
she sat at her window with a piece of intermittent embroidery work in
her fingers, she did not see her woodshed full of faggots nor the
servant busy at the wash tub; she was looking out upon Paris, Paris
where everything is pleasure, everything is full of life. She dreamed
of Paris gaieties, and shed tears because she must abide in this dull
prison of a country town. She was disconsolate because she lived in a
peaceful district, where no conspiracy, no great affair would ever
occur. She saw herself doomed to sit under the shadow of the
walnut-tree for some time to come.

Mme. Camusot was a little, plump, fresh, fair-haired woman, with a
very prominent forehead, a mouth which receded, and a turned-up chin,
a type of countenance which is passable in youth, but looks old before
the time. Her bright, quick eyes expressed her innocent desire to get
on in the world, and the envy born of her present inferior position,
with rather too much candor; but still they lighted up her commonplace
face and set it off with a certain energy of feeling, which success
was certain to extinguish in later life. At that time she used to give
a good deal of time and thought to her dresses, inventing trimmings
and embroidering them; she planned out her costumes with the maid whom
she had brought with her from Paris, and so maintained the reputation
of Parisiennes in the provinces. Her caustic tongue was dreaded; she
was not loved. In that keen, investigating spirit peculiar to
unoccupied women who are driven to find some occupation for empty
days, she had pondered the President's private opinions, until at
length she discovered what he meant to do, and for some time past she
had advised Camusot to declare war. The young Count's affair was an
excellent opportunity. Was it not obviously Camusot's part to make a
stepping-stone of this criminal case by favoring the d'Esgrignons, a
family with power of a very different kind from the power of the du
Croisier party?

"Sauvager will never marry Mlle. Duval. They are dangling her before
him, but he will be the dupe of those Machiavels in the Val-Noble to
whom he is going to sacrifice his position. Camusot, this affair, so
unfortunate as it is for the d'Esgrignons, so insidiously brought on
by the President for du Croisier's benefit, will turn out well for
nobody but /you/," she had said, as they went in.

The shrewd Parisienne had likewise guessed the President's underhand
manoeuvres with the