to
mollify the prelate by his advanced age, but the Bishop would not
listen; all he would concede was that, instead of being appointed
Vicar-general, the Abbe should be no more than a Canon. Still Gevresin
mildly shook his head. Finally the prelate had his way, appealing to his
friend's charity, and declaring that he ought to accept the post, in the
last resort as a mortification and penance.

And when his departure was decided on, it became the Abbe's turn to
circumvent Durtal and persuade him to leave Paris and come to settle
near him at Chartres.

Although he was deeply grieved at this move, which he had done his
utmost to hinder, Durtal was refractory, and refused to bury himself in
a country town.

"But why, our friend," said Madame Bavoil, "I wonder why you are so
obstinately bent on remaining here; you live in perfect solitude at home
with your books. You can do the same if you come with us."

And when, his arguments exhausted, after a vehement diatribe against
provincial life, Durtal ended by saying,--

"Then at Paris there are the quays, Saint Severin, Notre Dame; there are
delightful convents--"

"You would find equally good things at Chartres," answered the Abbe.
"You will have one of the finest cathedrals in the world, monasteries
such as you love, and as for books, your library is so well furnished
that I can hardly think that you can add to it by wandering along the
quays. Besides, as you know even better than I, no work of the class you
seek is ever to be disinterred from the boxes of second-hand books.
Their titles figure only in the catalogues of sales, and there is
nothing to hinder their being sent to you at Chartres."

"I do not deny it--but there are other things on the quays besides old
books; there are curiosities to be seen, and the Seine--a landscape--"

"Well, if you are homesick for that particular walk, you have only to
take a train, and spend a whole afternoon lounging by the parapet over
the river; it is easy to get from Chartres to Paris; there are express
trains morning and evening which make the journey in less than two
hours."

"And besides," cried Madame Bavoil, "what does all that matter? The
great thing is that you leave a town just like any other town, to
inhabit the very home of the Virgin. Just think! Notre Dame de
Sous-Terre is the most ancient chapel to Mary in all France; think! you
will live near Her, with Her, and She will load you with mercies!"

"And after all