r lips the while. Then, with downcast eyes and set lips, she
loosens the fleur-de-lys-engraved clasp of her Book of Hours, and seeks
out the prayers appropriate to her condition.
She reads with fervency: "'My God, crushed beneath the burden of my sins
I cast myself at thy feet'--how annoying that it should be so cold to the
feet. With my sore throat, I am sure to have influenza,--'that I cast
myself at thy feet'--tell me, dear, do you know if the chapel-keeper has
a footwarmer? Nothing is worse than cold feet, and that Madame de P.
sticks there for hours. I am sure she confesses her friends' sins along
with her own. It is intolerable; I no longer have any feeling in my right
foot; I would pay that woman for her foot-warmer--'I bow my head in the
dust under the weight of repentance, and of........'"
"Ah! Madame de P. has finished; she is as red as the comb of a
turkey-cock."
Four ladies rush forward with pious ardor to take her place.
"Ah! Madame, do not push so, I beg of you."
"But I was here before you, Madame."
"I beg a thousand pardons, Madame."
"You surely have a very strange idea of the respect which is due to this
hallowed spot."
"Hush, hush! Profit by the opportunity, Madame; slip through and take the
vacant place. (Whispering.) Do not forget the big one last night, and the
two little ones of this morning."
CHAPTER V
MADAME AND HER FRIEND CHAT BY THE FIRESIDE
Madam--(moving her slender fingers)--It is ruched, ruched, ruched, loves
of ruches, edged all around with blond.
Her Friend--That is good style, dear.
Madame--Yes, I think it will be the style, and over this snowlike foam
fall the skirts of blue silk like the bodice; but a lovely blue,
something like--a little less pronounced than skyblue, you know, like--my
husband calls it a subdued blue.
Her Friend--Splendid. He is very happy in his choice of terms.
Madame--Is he not? One understands at once--a subdued blue. It describes
it exactly.
Her Friend--But apropos of this, you know that Ernestine has not forgiven
him his pleasantry of the other evening.
Madame--How, of my husband? What pleasantry? The other evening when the
Abbe Gelon and the Abbe Brice were there?
Her Friend--And his son, who was there also.
Madame--What! the Abbe's son? (Both break into laughter.)
Her Friend--But--ha! ha! ha!--what are you saying, ha! ha! you little
goose?
Madame--I said the Abbe Gelon and the Abbe Brice, and you add, 'And h
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