mple,
natural gracefulness, veiled and hidden. Truly, what a strange creature!
How was it I had never observed her before? She dressed her hair in a
grotesque manner with little old maid curls, most absurd; but beneath
this one could see a large, calm brow, cut by two deep lines, two
wrinkles of long sadness, then two blue eyes, large and tender, so
timid, so bashful, so humble, two beautiful eyes which had kept the
expression of naive wonder of a young girl, of youthful sensations, and
also of sorrow, which had softened without spoiling them.

Her whole face was refined and discreet, a face the expression of which
seemed to have gone out without being used up or faded by the fatigues
and great emotions of life.

What a dainty mouth! and such pretty teeth! But one would have thought
that she did not dare smile.

Suddenly I compared her to Madame Chantal! Undoubtedly Mademoiselle
Pearl was the better of the two, a hundred times better, daintier,
prouder, more noble. I was surprised at my observation. They were
pouring out champagne. I held my glass up to the queen and, with a
well-turned compliment, I drank to her health. I could see that she felt
inclined to hide her head in her napkin. Then, as she was dipping her
lips in the clear wine, everybody cried: "The queen drinks! the queen
drinks!" She almost turned purple and choked. Everybody was laughing;
but I could see that all loved her.

As soon as dinner was over Chantal took me by the arm. It was time
for his cigar, a sacred hour. When alone he would smoke it out in the
street; when guests came to dinner he would take them to the billiard
room and smoke while playing. That evening they had built a fire to
celebrate Twelfth Night; my old friend took his cue, a very fine one,
and chalked it with great care; then he said:

"You break, my boy!"

He called me "my boy," although I was twenty-five, but he had known me
as a young child.

I started the game and made a few carroms. I missed some others, but as
the thought of Mademoiselle Pearl kept returning to my mind, I suddenly
asked:

"By the way, Monsieur Chantal, is Mademoiselle Pearl a relative of
yours?"

Greatly surprised, he stopped playing and looked at me:

"What! Don't you know? Haven't you heard about Mademoiselle Pearl?"

"No."

"Didn't your father ever tell you?"

"No."

"Well, well, that's funny! That certainly is funny! Why, it's a regular
romance!"

He paused, and then continued:

"An