In the last glimmer of twilight, by the first twinkling star, the
ladies, with many charming curtseys, make their appearance. Our house
is soon full of the little crouching women, with their tiny slit eyes
vaguely smiling; their beautifully dressed hair shining like polished
ebony; their fragile bodies lost in the many folds or the exaggerated
wide garments, that gape as if ready to drop from their little
tapering backs and reveal the exquisite napes of their little necks.

Chrysanthème, with somewhat a melancholy air; my mother-in-law
Renoncule, with many affected graces, busy themselves in the midst of
the different groups, where ere long the miniature pipes are lighted.
Soon there arises a murmuring sound of discreet laughter, expressing
nothing, but having a pretty exotic ring about it, and then begins a
harmony of _pan! pan! pan!_ sharp, rapid taps against the edges of the
finely lacquered smoking-boxes. Pickled and spiced fruits are handed
round on trays of quaint and varied shapes. Then transparent china
tea-cups, no larger than half an egg-shell, make their appearance, and
the ladies are offered a few drops of sugarless tea, poured out of toy
kettles, or a sip of _saki_--(a spirit made from rice which it is the
custom to serve hot, in elegantly shaped vases, long-necked like a
heron's throat).

Several mousmés execute, one after the other, improvizations on the
_chamécen_. Others sing in sharp high voices hopping about
continually, like cicalas in delirium.

Madame Prune, no longer able to make a mystery of the long-pent up
feelings that agitate her, pays me the most marked and tender
attentions, and begs my acceptance of a quantity of little souvenirs: