As a set-off to this woman of race and of culture, Aurore’s mother represented the ordinary type of the woman of the people.  She was small, dark, fiery and violent.  She, too, the bird-seller’s daughter, had been imprisoned by the Revolution, and strangely enough in the Couvent des Anglaises at about the same time as Maurice de Saxe’s granddaughter.  It was in this way that the fusion of classes was understood under the Terror.  She was employed as a figurante in a small theatre.  This was merely a commencement for her career.  At the time when Maurice Dupin met her, she was the mistress of an old general.  She already had one child of doubtful parentage.  Maurice Dupin, too, had a natural son, named Hippolyte, so that they could not reproach each other.  When Maurice Dupin married Sophie-Victoire, a month before the birth of Aurore, he had some difficulty in obtaining his mother’s consent.  She finally gave in, as she was of an indulgent nature.  It is possible that Sophie-Victoire’s conduct was irreproachable during her husband’s lifetime, but, after his death, she returned to her former ways.  She was nevertheless of religious habits and would not, upon any account, have missed attending Mass.  She was quick-tempered, jealous and noisy and, when anything annoyed her, extremely hot-headed.  At such times she would shout and storm, so that the only way to silence her was to shout still more loudly.  She never bore any malice, though, and wished no harm to those she had insulted.  She was of course sentimental, but more passionate than tender, and she quickly forgot those whom she had loved most fondly.  There seemed to be gaps in her memory and also in her conscience.  She was ignorant, knowing nothing either of literature or of the usages of society.  Her salon was the landing of her flat and her acquaintances were the neighbours who happened to live next door to her.  It is easy to imagine what she thought of the aristocrats who visited her mother-in-law.  She was amusing when she joked and made parodies on the women she styled “the old Countesses.”  She had a great deal of natural wit, a liveliness peculiar to the native of the faubourgs, all the impudence of the street arab, and a veritable talent of mimicry.  She was a good housewife, active, industrious and most clever in turning everything to account.  With a mere nothing she could improvise a dress or a hat and give it a certain style.  She was always most skilful with her fingers, a typical Parisian work-girl, a daughter of the street and a child of the people.  In our times she would be styled “a midinette.”

Such are the two women who shared the affection of Aurore Dupin.  Fate had brought them together, but had made them so unlike that they were bound to dislike each other.  The childhood of little Aurore served as the lists for their contentions.  Their rivalry was the dominating note in the sentimental education of the child.