d
with a fellow-feeling which made it difficult for him during the early
part of the meal to keep a perfectly straight countenance. After a
while, however, both he and Catherine were ready to admit that the
squire was making himself agreeable. He talked of Paris, of a
conversation he had had with M. Renan, whose name luckily was quite
unknown to Catherine, as to the state of things in the French Chamber.

'A set of chemists and quill-drivers,' he said contemptuously; 'but as
Renan remarked to me, there is one thing to be said for a government of
that sort, "Ils ne font pas la guerre." And so long as they don't run
France into adventures, and a man can keep a roof over his head and a
sou in his pocket, the men of letters at any rate can rub along. The
really interesting thing in France just now is not French
politics--Heaven save the mark!--but French scholarship. There never was
so little original genius going in Paris, and there never was so much
good work being done.'

Robert thought the point of view eminently characteristic.

'Catholicism, I suppose,' he said, 'as a force to be reckoned with, is
dwindling more and more?'

'Absolutely dead,' said the squire emphatically, 'as an _intellectual_
force. They haven't got a writer, scarcely a preacher. Not one decent
book has been produced on that side for years.'

'And the Protestants, too,' said Robert, 'have lost all their best men
of late,' and he mentioned one or two well-known French Protestant
names.

'Oh, as to French Protestantism'--and the squire's shrug was
superb--'Teutonic Protestantism is in the order of things, so to speak,
but _Latin_ Protestantism! There is no more sterile hybrid in the
world!'

Then, becoming suddenly aware that he might have said something
inconsistent with his company, the squire stopped abruptly. Robert,
catching Catherine's quick compression of the lips, was grateful to him,
and the conversation moved on in another direction.

Yes, certainly, all things considered, Mr. Wendover made himself
agreeable. He ate his boiled mutton and drank his _ordinaire_ like a
man, and when the meal was over, and he and Robert had withdrawn into
the study, he gave an emphatic word of praise to the coffee which
Catherine's housewifely care sent after them, and accepting a cigar, he
sank into the armchair by the fire and spread a bony hand to the blaze,
as if he had been at home in that particular corner for months. Robert,
sitting opposite to