when Mademoiselle Cormon
departed. All her visitors, especially those who had missed a visit,
came to bid her good-bye; the salon was thronged, and every one said
farewell as though she were starting for Calcutta. The next day the
shopkeepers would stand at their doors to see the old carriole pass, and
they seemed to be telling one another some news by repeating from shop
to shop:--

"So Mademoiselle Cormon is going to Prebaudet!"

Some said: "_Her_ bread is baked."

"Hey! my lad," replied the next man. "She's a worthy woman; if money
always came into such hands we shouldn't see a beggar in the country."

Another said: "Dear me, I shouldn't be surprised if the vineyards were
in bloom; here's Mademoiselle Cormon going to Prebaudet. How happens it
she doesn't marry?"

"I'd marry her myself," said a wag; "in fact, the marriage is half-made,
for here's one consenting party; but the other side won't. Pooh! the
oven is heating for Monsieur du Bousquier."

"Monsieur du Bousquier! Why, she has refused him."

That evening at all the gatherings it was told gravely:--

"Mademoiselle Cormon has gone."

Or:--

"So you have really let Mademoiselle Cormon go."

The Wednesday chosen by Suzanne to make known her scandal happened to
be this farewell Wednesday,--a day on which Mademoiselle Cormon drove
Josette distracted on the subject of packing. During the morning,
therefore, things had been said and done in the town which lent the
utmost interest to this farewell meeting. Madame Granson had gone the
round of a dozen houses while the old maid was deliberating on the
things she needed for the journey; and the malicious Chevalier de Valois
was playing piquet with Mademoiselle Armande, sister of a distinguished
old marquis, and the queen of the salon of the aristocrats. If it was
not uninteresting to any one to see what figure the seducer would cut
that evening, it was all important for the chevalier and Madame Granson
to know how Mademoiselle Cormon would take the news in her double
capacity of marriageable woman and president of the Maternity Society.
As for the innocent du Bousquier, he was taking a walk on the promenade,
and beginning to suspect that Suzanne had tricked him; this suspicion
confirmed him in his principles as to women.

On gala days the table was laid at Mademoiselle Cormon's about half-past
three o'clock. At that period the fashionable people of Alencon dined at
four. Under the Empire they still dined as