rned thirty, and her
features were pale and somewhat agitated. But then she had full, brown
eyes, sparkling and bold; splendid black hair; a nose thin and arched;
a lip red and disdainful; a dazzling complexion; teeth of ivory; and a
form tall and slender, graceful, and full of distinction,--the carriage
of a goddess in the clouds, as the immortal Saint-Simon says. With her
hair powdered, and a costume of the eighteenth century, Madame de
Lucenay would have represented, physically and morally, one of those gay
and careless duchesses of the Regency who carried on their flirtations
(or worse) with so much audacity, giddiness, and real kindness of heart,
who confessed their peccadilloes from time to time with so much candour
and naivete, that the most punctilious said, with a smile, "She is,
doubtless, light and culpable; but she is so kind--so delightful; loves
with so much intensity, passion, and fidelity,--as long as she does
love,--that we cannot really be angry with her. After all, she only
injures herself, and makes so many others happy!" Except the powder and
the large skirts to her dress, such also was Madame de Lucenay, when not
depressed by sombre thoughts. She entered the office of M. Jacques
Ferrand like a plain tradesman's wife; in the instant she came forth as
a great, proud, and irritated lady. Jacques Ferrand had never in his
life seen a woman of such striking beauty,--so haughty and bold, and so
noble in her demeanour. The look of the duchess, her glorious eyes,
encircled with an imperceptible bow of azure, her rosy nostrils, much
dilated, betokened her ardent nature.

Although old, ugly, ignoble, and sordid, Jacques Ferrand was as capable
as any one of appreciating the style of beauty of Madame de Lucenay. The
hatred and rage which the notary felt against M. de Saint-Remy was
increased by the admiration which his proud and lovely mistress inspired
in him. Devoured by all his repressed passions, he said to himself, in
an agony of rage, that this gentleman forger, whom he had compelled
almost to fall at his feet when he threatened him with the assizes,
could inspire such love in such a woman that she actually risked the
present step in his behalf, which might prove fatal to her reputation.
As he thus thought, the notary felt his boldness, which had been for a
moment paralysed, restored to him. Hatred, envy, a kind of savage and
burning resentment, lighted up his eyes, his forehead, and his cheeks.
Seeing Ma