This portrait of the Queen of Soulanges may seem a little grotesque, but many specimens of the same kind could be found in the provinces at that period,—­some more or less noble in blood, others belonging to the higher banking-circles, like the widow of a receiver-general in Touraine who still puts slices of veal upon her cheeks.  This portrait, drawn from nature, would be incomplete without the diamonds in which it is set; without the surrounding courtiers, a sketch of whom is necessary, if only to explain how formidable such Lilliputians are, and who are the makers of public opinion in remote little towns.  Let no one mistake me, however; there are many localities which, like Soulanges, are neither hamlets, villages, nor little towns, which have, nevertheless, the characteristics of all.  The inhabitants are very different from those of the large and busy and vicious provincial cities.  Country life influences the manners and morals of the smaller places, and this mixture of tints will be found to produce some truly original characters.

The most important personage after Madame Soudry was Lupin, the notary.  Though forty-five springs had bloomed for Lupin, he was still fresh and rosy, thanks to the plumpness which fills out the skin of sedentary persons; and he still sang ballads.  Also, he retained the elegant evening dress of society warblers.  He looked almost Parisian in his carefully-varnished boots, his sulphur-yellow waistcoats, his tight-fitting coats, his handsome silk cravats, his fashionable trousers.  His hair was curled by the barber of Soulanges (the gossip of the town), and he maintained the attitude of a man “a bonne fortunes” by his liaison with Madame Sarcus, wife of Sarcus the rich, who was to his life, without too close a comparison, what the campaigns of Italy were to Napoleon.  He alone of the leading society of Soulanges went to Paris, where he was received by the Soulanges family.  It was enough to hear him talk to imagine the supremacy he wielded in his capacity as dandy and judge of elegance.  He passed judgment on all things by the use of three terms:  “out of date,” “antiquated,” “superannuated."[*] A man, a woman, or a piece of furniture might be “out of date”; next, by a greater degree of imperfection, “antiquated”; but as to the last term, it was the superlative of contempt.  The first might be remedied, the second was hopeless, but the third,—­oh, better far never to have left the void of nothingness!  As to praise, a single word sufficed him, doubly and trebly uttered:  “Charming!” was the positive of his admiration.  “Charming, charming!” made you feel you were safe; but after “Charming, charming, charming!” the ladder might be discarded, for the heaven of perfection was attained.

[*] “Croute,” “crouton,” and “croute-au-pot,” untranslatable, and without equivalent in English.  A “croute” is the slang term for a man behind the age.—­Tr.