By a certain diplomatic convention, dating from September, 1825, when Mademoiselle de Pen-Hoel lost thirty-five sous, the game was to cease as soon as a person losing ten sous should express the wish to retire.  Politeness did not allow the rest to give the retiring player the pain of seeing the game go on without him.  But, as all passions have their Jesuitism, the chevalier and the baron, those wily politicians, had found a means of eluding this charter.  When all the players but one were anxious to continue an exciting game, the daring sailor, du Halga, one of those rich fellows prodigal of costs they do not pay, would offer ten counters to Mademoiselle Zephirine or Mademoiselle Jacqueline, when either of them, or both of them, had lost their five sous, on condition of reimbursement in case they won.  An old bachelor could allow himself such gallantries to the sex.  The baron also offered ten counters to the old maids, but under the honest pretext of continuing the game.  The miserly maidens accepted, not, however, without some pressing, as is the use and wont of maidens.  But, before giving way to this vast prodigality the baron and the chevalier were required to have won; otherwise the offer would have been taken as an insult.

Mouche became a brilliant affair when a Demoiselle de Kergarouet was in transit with her aunt.  We use the single name, for the Kergarouets had never been able to induce any one to call them Kergarouet-Pen-Hoel,—­not even their servants, although the latter had strict orders so to do.  At these times the aunt held out to the niece as a signal treat the mouche at the du Guenics.  The girl was ordered to look amiable, an easy thing to do in the presence of the beautiful Calyste, whom the four Kergarouet young ladies all adored.  Brought up in the midst of modern civilization, these young persons cared little for five sous a game, and on such occasions the stakes went higher.  Those were evenings of great emotion to the old blind sister.  The baroness would give her sundry hints by pressing her foot a certain number of times, according to the size of the stake it was safe to play.  To play or not to play, if the basket were full, involved an inward struggle, where cupidity fought with fear.  If Charlotte de Kergarouet, who was usually called giddy, was lucky in her bold throws, her aunt on their return home (if she had not won herself), would be cold and disapproving, and lecture the girl:  she had too much decision in her character; a young person should never assert herself in presence of her betters; her manner of taking the basket and beginning to play was really insolent; the proper behavior of a young girl demanded much more reserve and greater modesty; etc.