ner of the church. And
by degrees his voice became more flexible, and he put emotion into the
words he spoke, words which he had formerly learned by heart from a
manual intended for the use of young priests. He had turned slightly
towards Rosalie, and whenever his memory failed him, he added sentences
of his own:

'My dear sister, submit yourself to your husband, as the Church submits
itself to Jesus. Remember that you must leave everything to follow him,
like a faithful handmaiden. You must give up father and mother, you must
cleave only to your husband, and you must obey him that you may obey God
also. And your yoke will be a yoke of love and peace. Be his comfort,
his happiness, the perfume of his days of strength, the support of his
days of weakness. Let him find you, as a grace, ever by his side. Let
him have but to reach out his hand to find yours grasping it. It is thus
that you will step along together, never losing your way, and that you
will meet with happiness in the carrying out of the divine laws. Oh! my
dear sister, my dear daughter, your humility will hear sweet fruit; it
will give birth to all the domestic virtues, to the joys of the hearth,
and the prosperity that attends a God-fearing family. Have for your
husband the love of Rachel, the wisdom of Rebecca, the constant fidelity
of Sarah. Tell yourself that a pure life is the source of all happiness.
Pray to God each morning that He may give you strength to live as a
woman who respects her responsibilities and duties; for the punishment
you would otherwise incur is terrible: you would lose your love. Oh! to
live loveless, to tear flesh from flesh, to belong no more to the one
who is half of your very self, to live on in pain and agony, bereft of
the one you have loved! In vain would you stretch out your arms to him;
he would turn away from you. You would yearn for happiness, but you
would find in your heart nothing but shame and bitterness. Hear me, my
daughter, it is in your own conduct, in your obedience, in your purity,
in your love, that God has established the strength of your union.'

As Abbe Mouret spoke these words, there was a burst of laughter at the
other end of the church. The baby had just woke up on the chair where La
Teuse had laid it. But it was no longer in a bad temper. Having kicked
itself free of its swaddling clothes, it was laughing merrily, and
shaking its rosy little feet in the air. It was the sight of these
little feet that ma