window. By means of a board, Loulou was set on a
portion of the chimney which advanced into the room. Every morning
when she awoke, she saw him in the dim light of dawn and recalled
bygone days and the smallest details of insignificant actions,
without any sense of bitterness or grief.

As she was unable to communicate with people, she lived in a sort
of somnambulistic torpor. The processions of Corpus-Christi Day
seemed to wake her up. She visited the neighbours to beg for
candlesticks and mats so as to adorn the temporary altars in the
street.

In church, she always gazed at the Holy Ghost, and noticed that
there was something about it that resembled a parrot. The likeness
appeared even more striking on a coloured picture by Espinal,
representing the baptism of our Saviour. With his scarlet wings
and emerald body, it was really the image of Loulou. Having bought
the picture, she hung it near the one of the Comte d'Artois so
that she could take them in at one glance.

They associated in her mind, the parrot becoming sanctified
through the neighbourhood of the Holy Ghost, and the latter
becoming more lifelike in her eyes, and more comprehensible. In
all probability the Father had never chosen as messenger a dove,
as the latter has no voice, but rather one of Loulou's ancestors.
And Felicite said her prayers in front of the coloured picture,
though from time to time she turned slightly toward the bird.

She desired very much to enter in the ranks of the "Daughters of
the Virgin." But Madame Aubain dissuaded her from it.

A most important event occurred: Paul's marriage.

After being first a notary's clerk, then in business, then in the
customs, and a tax collector, and having even applied for a
position in the administration of woods and forests, he had at
last, when he was thirty-six years old, by a divine inspiration,
found his vocation: registrature! and he displayed such a high
ability that an inspector had offered him his daughter and his
influence.

Paul, who had become quite settled, brought his bride to visit his
mother.

But she looked down upon the customs of Pont-l'Eveque, put on
airs, and hurt Felicite's feelings. Madame Aubain felt relieved
when she left.

The following week they learned of Monsieur Bourais' death in an
inn. There were rumours of suicide, which were confirmed; doubts
concerning his integrity arose. Madame Aubain looked over her
accounts and soon discovered his numerous embezzl