cquisition to his counter. The old woman never missed an opportunity to
sound his praises; there was no lankiness, at any rate, about him, said
she; he was stout and strong, with a pair of calves which would have
done honour even to one of the Emperor's footmen.

However, La Normande shrugged her shoulders and snappishly replied:
"What do I care whether he's stout or not? I don't want him or anybody.
And besides, I shall do as I please."

Then, if the old woman became too pointed in her remarks, the other
added: "It's no business of yours, and besides, it isn't true. Hold
your tongue and don't worry me." And thereupon she would go off into
her room, banging the door behind her. Florent, however, had a yet
more bitter enemy than Madame Mehudin in the house. As soon as ever he
arrived there, Claire would get up without a word, take a candle, and go
off to her own room on the other side of the landing; and she could be
heard locking her door in a burst of sullen anger. One evening when
her sister asked the tutor to dinner, she prepared her own food on
the landing, and ate it in her bedroom; and now and again she secluded
herself so closely that nothing was seen of her for a week at a time.
She usually retained her appearance of soft lissomness, but periodically
had a fit of iron rigidity, when her eyes blazed from under her pale
tawny locks like those of a distrustful wild animal. Old Mother Mehudin,
fancying that she might relieve herself in her company, only made her
furious by speaking to her of Florent; and thereupon the old woman, in
her exasperation, told everyone that she would have gone off and left
her daughters to themselves had she not been afraid of their devouring
each other if they remained alone together.

As Florent went away one evening, he passed in front of Claire's door,
which was standing wide open. He saw the girl look at him, and turn very
red. Her hostile demeanour annoyed him; and it was only the timidity
which he felt in the presence of women that restrained him from seeking
an explanation of her conduct. On this particular evening he would
certainly have addressed her if he had not detected Mademoiselle Saget's
pale face peering over the balustrade of the upper landing. So he went
his way, but had not taken a dozen steps before Claire's door was closed
behind him with such violence as to shake the whole staircase. It was
after this that Mademoiselle Saget, eager to propagate slander, went
about