emselves, had turned those sentiments
wholly on this most fortunate animal.

The four faithful servants--for Penelope's intelligence raised her to
the level of the other good servants; while they, on the other hand, had
lowered themselves to the mute, submissive regularity of the beast--went
and came daily in the same occupations with the infallible accuracy of
mechanism. But, as they said in their idiom, they had eaten their white
bread first. Mademoiselle Cormon, like all persons nervously agitated
by a fixed idea, became hard to please, and nagging, less by nature than
from the need of employing her activity. Having no husband or children
to occupy her, she fell back on petty details. She talked for hours
about mere nothings, on a dozen napkins marked "Z," placed in the closet
before the "O's."

"What can Josette be thinking of?" she exclaimed. "Josette is beginning
to neglect things."

Mademoiselle inquired for eight days running whether Penelope had had
her oats at two o'clock, because on one occasion Jacquelin was a trifle
late. Her narrow imagination spent itself on trifles. A layer of dust
forgotten by the feather-duster, a slice of toast ill-made by Mariette,
Josette's delay in closing the blinds when the sun came round to fade
the colors of the furniture,--all these great little things gave rise
to serious quarrels in which mademoiselle grew angry. "Everything was
changing," she would cry; "she did not know her own servants; the fact
was she spoiled them!" On one occasion Josette gave her the "Journee du
Chretien" instead of the "Quinzaine de Paques." The whole town heard of
this disaster the same evening. Mademoiselle had been forced to leave
the church and return home; and her sudden departure, upsetting
the chairs, made people suppose a catastrophe had happened. She was
therefore obliged to explain the facts to her friends.

"Josette," she said gently, "such a thing must never happen again."

Mademoiselle Cormon was, without being aware of it, made happier by such
little quarrels, which served as cathartics to relieve her bitterness.
The soul has its needs, and, like the body, its gymnastics. These
uncertainties of temper were accepted by Josette and Jacquelin as
changes in the weather are accepted by husbandmen. Those worthy souls
remark, "It is fine to-day," or "It rains," without arraigning the
heavens. And so when they met in the morning the servants would wonder
in what humor mademoiselle would ge