Every one will immediately picture to themselves Mademoiselle Habert when they know that if she had not kept an institution for young ladies she would still have had the air of a school-mistress.  School-mistresses have a way of their own in putting on their caps.  Just as old Englishwomen have acquired a monopoly in turbans, school-mistresses have a monopoly of these caps.  Flowers nod above the frame-work, flowers that are more than artificial; lying by in closets for years the cap is both new and old, even on the day it is first worn.  These spinsters make it a point of honor to resemble the lay figures of a painter; they sit on their hips, never on their chairs.  When any one speaks to them they turn their whole busts instead of simply turning their heads; and when their gowns creak one is tempted to believe that the mechanism of these beings is out of order.  Mademoiselle Habert, an ideal of her species, had a stern eye, a grim mouth, and beneath her wrinkled chin the strings of her cap, always limp and faded, floated as she moved.  Two moles, rather large and brown, adorned that chin, and from them sprouted hairs which she allowed to grow rampant like clematis.  And finally, to complete her portrait, she took snuff, and took it ungracefully.

The company went to work at their boston.  Mademoiselle Habert sat opposite to Sylvie, with the colonel at her side opposite to Madame de Chargeboeuf.  Bathilde was near her mother and Rogron.  Sylvie placed Pierrette between herself and the colonel; Rogron had set out a second card-table, in case other company arrived.  Two lamps were on the chimney-piece between the candelabra and the clock, and the tables were lighted by candles at forty sous a pound, paid for by the price of the cards.

“Come, Pierrette, take your work, my dear,” said Sylvie, with treacherous softness, noticing that the girl was watching the colonel’s game.

She usually affected to treat Pierrette well before company.  This deception irritated the honest Breton girl, and made her despise her cousin.  She took her embroidery, but as she drew her stitches she still watched Gouraud’s play.  Gouraud behaved as if he did not know the girl was near him.  Sylvie noticed this apparent indifference and thought it extremely suspicious.  Presently she undertook a grande misere in hearts, the pool being full of counters, besides containing twenty-seven sous.  The rest of the company had now arrived; among them the deputy-judge Desfondrilles, who for the last two months had abandoned the Tiphaine party and connected himself more or less with the Vinets.  He was standing before the chimney-piece, with his back to the fire and the tails of his coat over his arms, looking round the fine salon of which Mademoiselle de Chargeboeuf was the shining ornament; for it really seemed as if all the reds of its decoration had been made expressly to enhance her style of beauty.  Silence reigned; Pierrette was watching the game, Sylvie’s attention was distracted from her by the interest of the grande misere.