ted on ushering
us in.

It was a narrow, long-shaped room, the size of the shop, with two
windows looking upon the street; a tiny square of carpet in the middle
of the floor; boards highly waxed and polished; a tea-table squeezed up
in one corner; a somewhat ancient-looking, spindle-legged cottage piano
behind the door; a mirror and an ornamental clock over the mantelpiece;
and a few French lithographs, colored in imitation of crayon drawings,
hanging against the walls.

Madame Marotte, very deaf and fussy, in a cap with white ribbons, came
forward to receive us. Mademoiselle Marie, sitting between two other
young women of her own age, hung her head, and took no notice of
our arrival.

The rest of the party consisted of a gentleman and two old ladies. The
gentleman (a plump, black-whiskered elderly Cupid, with a vast expanse
of shirt-front like an immense white ace of hearts, and a rose in his
button-hole) was standing on the hearth-rug in a graceful attitude, with
one hand resting on his hip, and the other under his coat-tails. Of the
two old ladies, who seemed as if expressly created by nature to serve as
foils to one another, one was very fat and rosy, in a red silk gown and
a kind of black velvet hat trimmed with white marabout feathers and
Roman pearls; while the other was tall, gaunt, and pale, with a long
nose, a long upper lip, and supernaturally long yellow teeth. She wore a
black gown, black cotton gloves, and a black velvet band across her
forehead, fastened in the centre with a black and gold clasp containing
a ghastly representation of a human eye, apparently purblind--which gave
this lady the air of a serious Cyclops.

Madame Marotte was profuse of thanks, welcomes, apologies, and curtseys.
It was so good of these gentlemen to come so far--and in such unpleasant
weather, too! But would not these Messieurs give themselves the trouble
to be seated? And would they prefer tea or coffee--for both were on the
table? And where was Marie? Marie, whose _fete_-day it was, and who
should have come forward to welcome these gentlemen, and thank them for
the honor of their company!

Thus summoned, Mademoiselle Marie emerged from between the two young
women, and curtsied demurely.

In the meanwhile, the little old gentleman who had ushered as in was
bustling about the room, shaking hands with every one, and complimenting
the ladies.

"Ah, Madame Desjardins," he said, addressing the stout lady in the hat,
"encha