Department, the conversation should not be clever enough; and, of
course, everybody was constrained in the presence of Madame de la
Baudraye, who produced a sort of terror among the woman-folk. As they
admired a carpet of Indian shawl-pattern in the La Baudraye
drawing-room, a Pompadour writing-table carved and gilt, brocade window
curtains, and a Japanese bowl full of flowers on the round table among
a selection of the newest books; when they heard the fair Dinah
playing at sight, without making the smallest demur before seating
herself at the piano, the idea they conceived of her superiority
assumed vast proportions. That she might never allow herself to become
careless or the victim of bad taste, Dinah had determined to keep
herself up to the mark as to the fashions and latest developments of
luxury by an active correspondence with Anna Grossetete, her bosom
friend at Mademoiselle Chamarolles' school.

Anna, thanks to a fine fortune, had married the Comte de Fontaine's
third son. Thus those ladies who visited at La Baudraye were
perpetually piqued by Dinah's success in leading the fashion; do what
they would, they were always behind, or, as they say on the turf,
distanced.

While all these trifles gave rise to malignant envy in the ladies of
Sancerre, Dinah's conversation and wit engendered absolute aversion.
In her ambition to keep her mind on the level of Parisian brilliancy,
Madame de la Baudraye allowed no vacuous small talk in her presence,
no old-fashioned compliments, no pointless remarks; she would never
endure the yelping of tittle-tattle, the backstairs slander which
forms the staple of talk in the country. She liked to hear of
discoveries in science or art, or the latest pieces at the theatres,
the newest poems, and by airing the cant words of the day she made a