adame la Comtesse," he said, "and it
grieves me to go to another place. Oh! this living is not worth much, I
know, and as for the people--well, the men have no more religion than
they ought to have, the women are not so moral as they might be, and the
girls never dream of being married until it is too late for them to wear
a wreath of orange blossoms; still, I love the place."

The new cure had been fidgeting impatiently during this speech, and his
face had turned very red.

"I shall soon have all that changed," he said, abruptly, as soon as the
other priest had finished speaking; and he looked like an angry child in
his worn but spotless cassock, so thin and small was he.

The Abbe Picot looked at him sideways, as he always did when anything
amused him.

"Listen, l'abbe," he said. "You will have to chain up your parishioners
if you want to prevent that sort of thing; and I don't believe even that
would be any good."

"We shall see," answered the little priest in a cutting tone.

The old cure smiled and slowly took a pinch of snuff.

"Age and experience will alter your views, l'abbe; if they don't you
will only estrange the few good Churchmen you have. When I see a girl
come to mass with a waist bigger than it ought to be, I say to
myself--'Well, she is going to give me another soul to look after;'--and
I try to marry her. You can't prevent them going wrong, but you can find
out the father of the child and prevent him forsaking the mother. Marry
them, l'abbe, marry them, and don't trouble yourself about anything
else."

"We will not argue on this point, for we should never agree," answered
the new cure, a little roughly; and the Abbe Picot again began to
express his regret at leaving the village, and the sea which he could
see from the vicarage windows, and the little funnel-shaped valleys,
where he went to read his breviary and where he could see the boats in
the distance. Then the two priests rose to go, and the Abbe Picot kissed
Jeanne, who nearly cried when she said good-bye.

A week afterwards, the Abbe Tolbiac called again. He spoke of the
reforms he was bringing about as if he were a prince taking possession
of his kingdom. He begged the vicomtesse to communicate on all the days
appointed by the Church, and to attend mass regularly on Sundays.

"You and I are at the head of the parish," he said, "and we ought to
rule it, and always set it a good example; but, if we wish to have any
influence, we must