lifeless indifference.

"For my part," he answered, "I am accompanying a friend of my childhood,
a poor girl who is very ill indeed. I must ask your help for her; you
shall nurse her."

Thereupon she faintly blushed, and he no longer doubted the truth of his
surmise. However, Raymonde was just then settling the bill with the easy
assurance of a girl who is expert in figures; and immediately afterwards
Madame Desagneaux led Madame Volmar away. The waiters were now growing
more distracted and the tables were fast being vacated; for, on hearing a
bell ring, everybody had begun to rush towards the door.

Pierre, on his side, was hastening back to his carriage, when he was
stopped by an old priest. "Ah! Monsieur le Cure," he said, "I saw you
just before we started, but I was unable to get near enough to shake
hands with you."

Thereupon he offered his hand to his brother ecclesiastic, who was
looking and smiling at him in a kindly way. The Abbe Judaine was the
parish priest of Saligny, a little village in the department of the Oise.
Tall and sturdy, he had a broad pink face, around which clustered a mass
of white, curly hair, and it could be divined by his appearance that he
was a worthy man whom neither the flesh nor the spirit had ever
tormented. He believed indeed firmly and absolutely, with a tranquil
godliness, never having known a struggle, endowed as he was with the
ready faith of a child who is unacquainted with human passions. And ever
since the Virgin at Lourdes had cured him of a disease of the eyes, by a
famous miracle which folks still talked about, his belief had become yet
more absolute and tender, as though impregnated with divine gratitude.

"I am pleased that you are with us, my friend," he gently said; "for
there is much in these pilgrimages for young priests to profit by. I am
told that some of them at times experience a feeling of rebellion. Well,
you will see all these poor people praying,--it is a sight which will
make you weep. How can one do otherwise than place oneself in God's
hands, on seeing so much suffering cured or consoled?"

The old priest himself was accompanying a patient; and he pointed to a
first-class compartment, at the door of which hung a placard bearing the
inscription: "M. l'Abbe Judaine, Reserved." Then lowering his voice, he
said: "It is Madame Dieulafay, you know, the great banker's wife. Their
chateau, a royal domain, is in my parish, and when they learned that the
Bless