my cassock my good old watch, and found that it was earlier
than I thought. The darkness of the chapel had deceived me, and my
stomach had shared my error. I was hungry. I banished these carnal
preoccupations from my mind, and after shaking my hands, on which some
grains of snuff had fallen, I slackened one of my braces that was
pressing a little on one shoulder, and opened my wicket.

"Well, Madame, people should be more careful," said the penitent on my
left, addressing a lady of whom I could only see a bonnet-ribbon; "it is
excusable."

My penitent's voice, which was very irritated, though restrained by
respect for the locality, softened as if by magic at the creaking of my
wicket. She knelt down, piously folded her two ungloved hands, plump,
perfumed, rosy, laden with rings--but let that pass. I seemed to
recognize the hands of the Countess de B., a chosen soul, whom I had the
honor to visit frequently, especially on Saturday, when there is always a
place laid for me at her table.

She raised her little lace veil and I saw that I was not mistaken. It was
the Countess. She smiled at me as at a person with whom she was
acquainted, but with perfect propriety; she seemed to be saying,
"Good-day, my dear Abbe, I do not ask how your rheumatism is, because at
this moment you are invested with a sacred character, but I am interested
in it all the same."

This little smile was irreproachable. I replied by a similar smile, and I
murmured in a very low tone, giving her, too, to understand by the
expression of my face that I was making a unique concession in her favor,
"Are you quite well, dear Madame?"

"Thanks, father, I am quite well." Her voice had resumed an angelic tone.
"But I have just been in a passion."

"And why? Perhaps you have taken for a passion what was really only a
passing moment of temper?"

It does not do to alarm penitents.

"Ah! not at all, it was really a passion, father. My dress had just been
torn from top to bottom; and really it is strange that one should be
exposed to such mishaps on approaching the tribunal of----"

"Collect yourself, my dear Madame, collect yourself," and assuming a
serious look I bestowed my benediction upon her.

The Countess sought to collect herself, but I saw very well that her
troubled spirit vainly strove to recover itself. By a singular phenomenon
I could see into her brain, and her thoughts appeared to me one after the
other. She was saying to herself, "Let me