Bathilde was blond, but the tint was not one of those dull blonds in which there is a reflection of white; her long, thick, silky hair verged rather on the chestnut. Her skin had that whiteness in which there is life, and not that dull tone which imparts an aspect of inanition to a living person. On the contrary, the lovely girl's cheeks had a rosy tinge; and at the slightest word of reproof that was addressed to her, they at once became a most brilliant carmine. Large, deep-blue eyes, almond shaped, and shaded by long chestnut lashes; a small, fresh, red-lipped mouth; irreproachable teeth of dazzling whiteness; a chin slightly oval in shape; fine, but clearly marked eyebrows; a noble, beautiful brow, over which thick curls seemed proud to be placed. Such was Bathilde, who possessed, in addition, a slender, lithe, dainty figure, a remarkably small foot, and a hand worthy to serve as a model. But a mere enumeration of her advantages affords but a faint idea of the fascination of that young girl, of the charm with which her whole person was instinct, of the sweet melody of her voice, and of the pleasure that one felt in hearing it. Sometimes one remains unmoved before the most unexceptionable beauty; for that which attracts and captivates us is not so much the perfection of the features, the regularity of the outlines of a face, as its amiable and gracious expression--a second element of beauty which many times exerts more power than the first; but when the two are combined, when nature has endowed a single woman with both, then it is that it is very difficult to avoid losing one's heart and one's reason. And that lovely, graceful, fascinating girl was the daughter of Landry and Dame Ragonde! Nature sometimes indulges in such strange whims. Do we not see flowers whose perfume intoxicates us and whose gorgeous colors dazzle our eyes, blooming upon stunted, thorny stalks? As Bathilde's beauty would have attracted too many gallants, too many seducers, to Master Landry's shop, the girl never appeared there, nor did she wait upon the ladies who patronized her father's baths. Bathilde had been brought up very strictly; almost always confined to her bedroom, which did not look on the street, the girl never went out except with her mother; and then a long veil, attached to her hood, covered almost the whole of her face, leaving nothing in sight save the end of her nose. If the sweet girl ventured to disarrange the veil and to expose one of her pink and white cheeks to the air for a moment, Dame Ragonde would instantly exclaim in her shrill, harsh voice: "Your veil! your veil! Take care!" Bathilde knew what that meant, and would hasten to swathe her lovely face anew.