in former times at half-past
two; but then they supped! One of the pleasures which Mademoiselle
Cormon valued most was (without meaning any malice, although the fact
certainly rests on egotism) the unspeakable satisfaction she derived
from seeing herself dressed as mistress of the house to receive her
guests. When she was thus under arms a ray of hope would glide into
the darkness of her heart; a voice told her that nature had not so
abundantly provided for her in vain, and that some man, brave and
enterprising, would surely present himself. Her desire was refreshed
like her person; she contemplated herself in her heavy stuffs with a
sort of intoxication, and this satisfaction continued when she descended
the stairs to cast her redoubtable eye on the salon, the dinner-table,
and the boudoir. She would then walk about with the naive contentment of
the rich,--who remember at all moments that they are rich and will never
want for anything. She looked at her eternal furniture, her curiosities,
her lacquers, and said to herself that all these fine things wanted was
a master. After admiring the dining-room, and the oblong dinner-table,
on which was spread a snow-white cloth adorned with twenty covers placed
at equal distances; after verifying the squadron of bottles she had
ordered to be brought up, and which all bore honorable labels; after
carefully verifying the names written on little bits of paper in the
trembling handwriting of the abbe (the only duty he assumed in the
household, and one which gave rise to grave discussions on the place
of each guest),--after going through all these preliminary acts
mademoiselle went, in her fine clothes, to her uncle, who was accustomed
at this, the best hour in the day, to take his walk on the terrace which
overlooked the Brillante, where he could listen to the warble of birds
which were resting in the coppice, unafraid of either sportsmen or
children. At such times of waiting she never joined the Abbe de Sponde
without asking him some ridiculous question, in order to draw the old
man into a discussion which might serve to amuse him. And her reason
was this,--which will serve to complete our picture of this excellent
woman's nature:--

Mademoiselle Cormon regarded it as one of her duties to talk; not that
she was talkative, for she had unfortunately too few ideas, and did
not know enough phrases to converse readily. But she believed she was
accomplishing one of the social duties enjo