Madame D'Haberville, a devout and gentle woman of thirty-six, was endowed with that mature beauty which men often prefer to the freshness of youth. Blonde and of medium height, her countenance was of an angelic sweetness. Her sole object seemed to be the happiness of those about her. The habitants, in their simple way, used to call her "the perfect lady."
Mademoiselle Blanche D'Haberville, younger than her brother Jules, was the image of her mother, but of a somewhat graver temperament. Wise beyond her years, she had a great influence over her brother, whose outbursts she often checked with one imploring glance. While apparently absorbed in her own thoughts, the girl was capable, on occasion, of acting with energy and effect.
Madame Louise de Beaumont, younger sister of Madame D'Haberville, had lived with her ever since her marriage. Though rich and independent, she was altogether devoted to her sister's family. Sharing their happiness, she was equally ready to share, should need arise, the utmost that adversity could bring upon them.
Lieutenant Raoul D'Haberville, or rather the Chevalier D'Haberville, whom everybody called Uncle Raoul, was a younger brother of the captain by two years. He looked fully ten years his senior. A little man was Uncle Raoul, almost as broad as he was long, and walking with the assistance of a stick; he would have been remarkably ugly even if the small-pox could have been induced to spare his countenance. It is hard to say how he came by his nickname. One may say of a man, he has a paternal air, he is un petit père; but one accuses nobody of having an avuncular appearance. For all that, Lieutenant D'Haberville was everybody's uncle. Even his soldiers, unknown to him, used to call him Uncle Raoul. In like manner, to compare great things with small, Napoleon was to the grumblers merely "the little corporal."
Uncle Raoul was the littérateur of the D'Haberville family, and, therefore, something of a pedant, like almost all men who live in daily contact with people less learned than themselves. Uncle Raoul was the best fellow in the world when he had his own way; but he had one little defect. He held the profound conviction that he was always right, which made him very bad tempered with any who might dare to differ with him.
Uncle Raoul prided himself on his knowledge of Latin, fragments of which language he was wont to launch freely at the heads of cultured and ignorant alike. Endless were his discussions with the curé over some line of Horace, Ovid, or Virgil, who were his favorite authors. The curé, who was of a mild and peaceable humor, almost always grew weary of the contest and gave way before his fiery opponent. But Uncle Raoul also prided himself on being a profound theologian, which was the cause of much embarrassment to the poor curé. The latter was deeply concerned for the soul of his friend, who had been in his youth a rather risky subject, and whom he had had great difficulty in leading into better courses. He found it necessary, however, sometimes to give way on points not absolutely essential to the safety of Uncle Raoul's soul. When points were attacked which he durst not yield he was wont to call in the aid of Blanche, whom her uncle idolized.
"Dear uncle," she would say to him with a caress, "are you not already learned enough without encroaching on the field of our good pastor? You are victorious on all the other points under discussion," she would add, with a sly glance at the curé; "be generous, then, and suffer yourself to be convinced on those points which are the especial province of God's ministers."
Thereupon, as Uncle Raoul argued simply for the pleasure of argument, a peace would be concluded between the disputants.
Uncle Raoul was by no means the least important personage at D'Haberville manor. Since his retirement from the army, the captain, whom military service kept much away from home, left the management of affairs entirely in his hands. His occupations were very numerous. He kept account of the receipts and expenditures of the family; he collected the rents of the seigniory; he managed the farm; he betook himself every Sunday, rain or shine, to mass to receive the Easter water in the seigneur's absence; and, among other minor duties which devolved upon him, he presented for baptism all the first-born children of the tenants of the estate—an honor which belonged to his elder brother, but of which the latter had freed himself in favor of Raoul.
A little incident may be cited to show Uncle Raoul's importance. Let us imagine ourselves in the month of November, when the seigneurial rents fall due. Uncle Raoul, with a long quill pen behind his ear, sits in a great armchair as on a throne. Beside him is a table covered with green cloth, and on this table rests his sword. As the tenant appears, he assumes an expression of severity, which does not greatly alarm the debtor, for the Seigneur D'Haberville is an indulgent landlord, and his tenants pay when they please.