suspecting each other. Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel would almost
invariably accuse the rector of cheating when he won the basket.

"It is singular," he would reply, "that I never cheat except when I
win the trick."

Often the baron would forget where he was when the talk fell on the
misfortunes of the royal house. Sometimes the evening ended in a
manner that was quite unexpected to the players, who all counted on a
certain gain. After a certain number of games and when the hour grew
late, these excellent people would be forced to separate without
either loss or gain, but not without emotion. On these sad evenings
complaints were made of /mouche/ itself; it was dull, it was long; the
players accused their /mouche/ as Negroes stone the moon in the water
when the weather is bad. On one occasion, after an arrival of the
Vicomte and Vicomtesse de Kergarouet, there was talk of whist and
boston being games of more interest than /mouche/. The baroness, who
was bored by /mouche/, encouraged the innovation, and all the company
--but not without reluctance--adopted it. But it proved impossible to
make them really understand the new games, which, on the departure of
the Kergarouets, were voted head-splitters, algebraic problems, and
intolerably difficult to play. All preferred their /mouche/, their
dear, agreeable /mouche/. /Mouche/ accordingly triumphed over modern
games, as all ancient things have ever triumphed in Brittany over
novelties.

While the rector was dealing the cards the baroness was asking the
Chevalier du Halga the same questions which she had asked him the
evening before about his health. The chevalier made it a point of
honor to have new ailments. Inquiries might be alike, but the nautical