It was a punctilious French circle, polished and occasionally extremely brilliant, in which refined artifice and trained coquetry were constantly exhibited; where a leader cleverly conducted the conversation and each individual present was under an obligation to contribute his or her share to the general entertainment. The men stood deferentially behind the high-backed chairs, treating skilfully the topics which the women had touched with dexterous grace. The conversation was cynical and epigrammatic, but always amusing. The Marquise was herself an accomplished talker. The light sarcastic humor, subtle touches, unsparing irony or ridicule—always kept within conventional bounds—with which her conversation flashed and sparkled, permeated the little circle and charmed all. When she permitted her thoughts to dwell upon the subject (which was but seldom, for in her philosophic fortitude Madame objected to idle repinings), the Marquise thought that she had died when she left France—died to hope, and love and ambition,—and in this new world had revived again a sort of ghost of her former self to confront another existence. She could not dwell forever amidst the crumbling ruins of her life; an entirely new array of troubles and difficulties had to be met, which nevertheless had a novel side, and took her mind from her own wounds. It might be painful to flesh and blood, but the cup had to be drained. The climax and agony of her youth had been left behind; it still remained to tread with calmness the dark paths that stretched before her. In that case it was well to make endurance as pleasant as possible, to accept every solace and alleviation. The Marquise represented the sceptical, worldly element in the household. While Le Ber’s bourgeois tastes and habits prevented him from feeling much sympathy with those of his noble guests, he greatly prided himself upon Madame’s social supremacy. He had no paltry vanity to obscure his clear perceptions, and his unquestioned autocracy was mellowed by a fine instinct of kindly courtesy. There were others more narrow-minded and less tolerant, but their ill-natured comments were ignored by the great lady. She held it becoming in a woman of quality not to fail in religious observances, but it was her nature to inspect everything curiously, to fathom intentions and analyze motives, and then to form her own judgments. Her enemies hinted that the Marquise had been infected by the Jansenist doctrines and that she had Jansenist books in her possession. She listened to all that was said, smiled suavely, but never altered her intention of not allowing her actions to be regulated by the narrow dogmas of the Jesuits. She still enjoyed her quiet game of piquet with Père Denys, a kindly and amusing man with a keen sense of humor, read the books which suited her, and exercised a charitable tolerance unknown to the fanatics by whom she was surrounded.