which the wars of the Empire commended to the affections of the
Parisians; and the Greek helmets, the Roman crossed daggers, and the
shields so dear to military enthusiasm that they were introduced on
furniture of the most peaceful uses, had no fitness side by side with
the delicate and profuse arabesques that delighted Madame de
Pompadour.

Bigotry tends to an indescribably tiresome kind of humility which does
not exclude pride. Whether from modesty or by choice, Madame de
Granville seemed to have a horror of light and cheerful colors;
perhaps, too, she imagined that brown and purple beseemed the dignity
of a magistrate. How could a girl accustomed to an austere life have
admitted the luxurious divans that may suggest evil thoughts, the
elegant and tempting boudoirs where naughtiness may be imagined?

The poor husband was in despair. From the tone in which he approved,
only seconding the praises she bestowed on herself, Angelique
understood that nothing really pleased him; and she expressed so much
regret at her want of success, that Granville, who was very much in
love, regarded her disappointment as a proof of her affection instead
of resentment for an offence to her self-conceit. After all, could he
expect a girl just snatched from the humdrum of country notions, with
no experience of the niceties and grace of Paris life, to know or do
any better? Rather would he believe that his wife's choice had been
overruled by the tradesmen than allow himself to own the truth. If he
had been less in love, he would have understood that the dealers,
always quick to discern their customers' ideas, had blessed Heaven
for sending them a tasteless little bigot, who would take their
old-fashioned goods off their hands. So he comforted the pretty
provincial.