and tongues, an utter lack of heart, which is not the little bourgeoise's failing, for if you are ill she will overwhelm you with kindness and attentions, accompanied ever with her equable, smiling cordiality; and if your bill is the heavier, well, at least you have had the pleasure of the attentions; and her presence, when you are not considering its consequences in your bill, is more often than not a tonic and a ray of sympathy and gaiety. Of so priceless a quality is gaiety, that good-humoured roguery is better any day than sour, ill-natured honesty.
The small dressmaker is another pleasing picture of the humbler walks of Paris. The grisette I deem to be as extinct as the dodo, while the class of work-girl I have in view may be supposed to step out of her rank. But the novelist who would try to turn her into copy for Musset or Mürger would be all abroad. She earns her bread honestly and diligently in the skilful exercise of her art, with a band of juvenile needle-women round her who ought to be playing in the fields, but who, instead, are content to sit in a tiny workroom and sew and snip all day. Nothing more dignified, more modest, more self-respecting than all this young world, seemingly unaware of any reasons for dissatisfaction. The youthful mistress exercises her authority with good-humour and gentleness, and her willing little workers appear really fond of her. It is in
