round him; he begged her to excuse him. She was received coldly enough
by her sister, who owed her a grudge. In fact, Augustine, in her
finery, and stepping out of a handsome carriage, had never been to see
her but when passing by. The wife of the prudent Lebas, imagining that
want of money was the prime cause of this early call, tried to keep up
a tone of reserve which more than once made Augustine smile. The
painter's wife perceived that, apart from the cap and lappets, her
mother had found in Virginie a successor who could uphold the ancient
honor of the Cat and Racket. At breakfast she observed certain changes
in the management of the house which did honor to Lebas' good sense;
the assistants did not rise before dessert; they were allowed to talk,
and the abundant meal spoke of ease without luxury. The fashionable
woman found some tickets for a box at the Francais, where she
remembered having seen her sister from time to time. Madame Lebas had
a cashmere shawl over her shoulders, of which the value bore witness
to her husband's generosity to her. In short, the couple were keeping
pace with the times. During the two-thirds of the day she spent there,
Augustine was touched to the heart by the equable happiness, devoid,
to be sure, of all emotion, but equally free from storms, enjoyed by
this well-matched couple. They had accepted life as a commercial
enterprise, in which, above all, they must do credit to the business.
Not finding any great love in her husband, Virginie had set to work to
create it. Having by degrees learned to esteem and care for his wife,
the time that his happiness had taken to germinate was to Joseph Lebas
a guarantee of its durability. Hence, when Augustine plaintively set
forth her painful position, she had to face the deluge of commonplace
morality which the traditions of the Rue Saint-Denis furnished to her
sister.

"The mischief is done, wife," said Joseph Lebas; "we must try to give