a hollowness within, and a flourish around "Holy Church"
which tempted me but moderately. I went on my way pondering many
things. Whatever Romanism may be, there are good Romanists: this man,
Emanuel, seemed of the best; touched with superstition, influenced by
priestcraft, yet wondrous for fond faith, for pious devotion, for
sacrifice of self, for charity unbounded. It remained to see how Rome,
by her agents, handled such qualities; whether she cherished them for
their own sake and for God's, or put them out to usury and made booty
of the interest.

By the time I reached home, it was sundown. Goton had kindly saved me a
portion of dinner, which indeed I needed. She called me into the little
cabinet to partake of it, and there Madame Beck soon made her
appearance, bringing me a glass of wine.

"Well," began she, chuckling, "and what sort of a reception did Madame
Walravens give you? Elle est drole, n'est-ce pas?"

I told her what had passed, delivering verbatim the courteous message
with which I had been charged.

"Oh la singuliere petite bossue!" laughed she. "Et figurez-vous qu'elle
me deteste, parcequ'elle me croit amoureuse de mon cousin Paul; ce
petit devot qui n'ose pas bouger, a moins que son confesseur ne lui
donne la permission! Au reste" (she went on), "if he wanted to marry
ever so much--soit moi, soit une autre--he could not do it; he has too
large a family already on his hands: Mere Walravens, Pere Silas, Dame
Agnes, and a whole troop of nameless paupers. There never was a man
like him for laying on himself burdens greater than he can bear,
voluntarily incurring needless responsibilities. Besides, he harbours a
romantic idea about some pale-faced Marie Justine--personnage assez
niaise a ce que je pense" (such was Madame's irreverent remark), "who
has been an angel in heaven, or elsewhere, this score of years, and to
whom he means to go, free from all earthly ties, pure comme un lis, a
ce qu'il dit. Oh, you would laugh could you but know half M. Emanuel's
crotchets and eccentricities! But I hinder you from taking refreshment,
ma bonne Meess, which you must need; eat your supper, drink your wine,
oubliez les anges, les bossues, et surtout, les Professeurs--et bon
soir!"

CHAPTER XXXV

FRATERNITY.

"Oubliez les Professeurs." So said Madame Beck. Madame Beck was a wise
woman, but she should not have uttered those words. To do so was a
mistake. That night she should have left me calm--not excite