her with a shrug. For some moments past she had been
rather pale and extremely serious and had not spoken a single word.
Suddenly the path gave a final turn; the wall ended, and as they came
out on the village square the mansion house stood before them on the
farther side of its grand outer court. All stopped to admire the proud
sweep of the wide steps, the twenty frontage windows, the arrangement of
the three wings, which were built of brick framed by courses of stone.
Henri IV had erewhile inhabited this historic mansion, and his room,
with its great bed hung with Genoa velvet, was still preserved there.
Breathless with admiration, Nana gave a little childish sigh.

"Great God!" she whispered very quietly to herself.

But the party were deeply moved when Gaga suddenly announced that Irma
herself was standing yonder in front of the church. She recognized her
perfectly. She was as upright as of old, the hoary campaigner, and that
despite her age, and she still had those eyes which flashed when she
moved in that proud way of hers! Vespers were just over, and for a
second or two Madame stood in the church porch. She was dressed in a
dark brown silk and looked very simple and very tall, her venerable face
reminding one of some old marquise who had survived the horrors of the
Great Revolution. In her right hand a huge Book of Hours shone in the
sunlight, and very slowly she crossed the square, followed some fifteen
paces off by a footman in livery. The church was emptying, and all the
inhabitants of Chamont bowed before her with extreme respect. An old
man even kissed her hand, and a woman wanted to fall on her knees.
Truly this was a potent queen, full of years and honors. She mounted her
flight of steps and vanished from view.

"That's what one attains to when one has methodical habits!" said
Mignon with an air of conviction, looking at his sons and improving the
occasion.

Then everybody said his say. Labordette thought her extraordinarily well
preserved. Maria Blond let slip a foul expression and vexed Lucy, who
declared that one ought to honor gray hairs. All the women, to sum up,
agreed that she was a perfect marvel. Then the company got into their
conveyances again. From Chamont all the way to La Mignotte Nana remained
silent. She had twice turned round to look back at the house, and now,
lulled by the sound of the wheels, she forgot that Steiner was at her
side and that Georges was in front of her. A vision had