She looked attentively at her brother, and saw Flore Brazier standing directly behind him, with her hair dressed, a pair of snowy shoulders and a dazzling bosom showing through a gauze neckerchief, which was trimmed with lace; she was wearing a dress with a tight-fitting waist, made of grenadine (a silk material then much in fashion), with leg-of-mutton sleeves so-called, fastened at the wrists by handsome bracelets. A gold chain rippled over the crab-girl’s bosom as she leaned forward to give Jean-Jacques his black silk cap lest he should take cold. The scene was evidently studied. “Hey!” cried Joseph, “there’s a fine woman, and a rare one! She is made, as they say, to paint. What flesh-tints! Oh, the lovely tones! what surface! what curves! Ah, those shoulders! She’s a magnificent caryatide. What a model she would have been for one of Titians’ Venuses!” Adolphine and Madame Hochon thought he was talking Greek; but Agathe signed to them behind his back, as if to say that she was accustomed to such jargon. “So you think a creature who is depriving you of your property handsome?” said Madame Hochon. “That doesn’t prevent her from being a splendid model!--just plump enough not to spoil the hips and the general contour--” “My son, you are not in your studio,” said Agathe. “Adolphine is here.” “Ah, true! I did wrong. But you must remember that ever since leaving Paris I have seen nothing but ugly women--” “My dear godmother,” said Agathe hastily, “how shall I be able to meet my brother, if that creature is always with him?” “Bah!” said Joseph. “I’ll go and see him myself. I don’t think him such an idiot, now I find he has the sense to rejoice his eyes with a Titian’s Venus.” “If he were not an idiot,” said Monsieur Hochon, who had come in, “he would have married long ago and had children; and then you would have no chance at the property. It is an ill wind that blows no good.” “Your son’s idea is very good,” said Madame Hochon; “he ought to pay the first visit. He can make his uncle understand that if you call there he must be alone.” “That will affront Mademoiselle Brazier,” said old Hochon. “No, no, madame; swallow the pill. If you can’t get the whole property, secure a small legacy.” The Hochons were not clever enough to match Max. In the middle of breakfast Kouski brought over a letter from Monsieur Rouget, addressed to his sister, Madame Bridau. Madame Hochon made her husband read it aloud, as follows:--