aurent's tiny rooms. Poor
child, had she not been ill and prostrate at first, and fastened herself
on the tender side of the good woman's heart by the sweetness of an
unselfish and buoyant nature in illness, Noemi could hardly have endured
such an inmate, not even half a Huguenot, full of little Catholic
observances like second nature to her; listening indeed to the Bible
for the short time, but always, when it was expounded, either asleep, or
finding some amusement indispensable for her baby; eager for the least
variety, and above all spoilt by Maitre Gardon to a degree absolutely
perplexing to the grave woman.

He would not bid her lay aside the observances that, to Noemi, seemed
almost worship of the beast. He rather reverted to the piety which
originated them; and argued with his old friend that it was better
to build than to destroy, and that, before the fabric of truth,
superstition would crumble away of itself. The little he taught
her sounded to Noemi's puzzled ears mere Christianity instead of
controversial Calvinism. And, moreover, he never blamed her for wicked
worldliness when she yawned; but even devised opportunities for taking
her out for a walk, to see as much life as might be on a market-day. He
could certainly not forget--as much as would have been prudent--that she
was a high-born lady; and even seemed taken aback when he found her with
her sleeves turned up over her shapely-delicate arms, and a thick apron
before her, with her hands in Veuve Laurent's flour, showing her some
of those special mysterious arts of confectionery in which she had been
initiated by Soeur Bernardine, when, not three years ago, she had been
the pet of the convent at Bellaise. At first it was half sport and
the desire of occupation, but the produce of her manipulations was
so excellent as to excite quite a sensation in La Sablerie, and the
echevins and baillis sent in quite considerable orders for the cakes and
patties of Maitre Gardon's Paris-bred daughter-in-law.

Maitre Gardon hesitated. Noemi Laurent told him she cared little for the
gain--Heaven knew it was nothing to her--but that she thought it wrong
and inconsistent in him to wish to spare the poor child's pride, which
was unchristian enough already. 'Nay,' he said sadly, 'mortifications
from without do little to tame pride; nor did I mean to bring her here
that she should turn cook and confectioner to pamper the appetite of
Baillis La Grasse.'

But Eustacie's first