eatly pleased with Abbe Marinier.
She also felt that Leyni and Dane would have done well had they
abstained from introducing strangers without notifying Giovanni.
Marinier spoke, with slightly knitted brows, after a close scrutiny of
his bean soup.

"I fear," said he, "we shall weary Signora Selva if we talk now of the
subject to be discussed at the meeting."

Maria reassured him. She should not be present at the meeting, but she
took the liveliest interest in its objects.

"Very well, then," Marinier continued. "It will be a great advantage to
me to become better acquainted with those objects, for Dane has spoken
of them only in rather vague terms, and I do not feel sure that I
entirely share your views."

Don Paole could not restrain a movement of impatience. Selva himself
seemed slightly annoyed, because unanimity of opinion on certain
fundamental principles was surely necessary. Without this unanimity the
meeting might prove worse than useless, even dangerous. "Well," said he,
"there are many Catholics in Italy and outside of Italy who, with us,
desire certain reforms in the Church. We wish them to be brought about
without rebellion, to be the work of the legitimate authorities. We
desire reforms in religious instruction, in the ceremonies, in the
discipline of the clergy, reforms even in the highest sphere of
ecclesiastical government. To obtain these ends it is necessary to
create a current of opinion strong enough to induce the legitimate
authorities to act in conformity with our views, be it twenty, thirty,
or even fifty years hence. Now we who hold these opinions are widely
dispersed, and, save in the case of those who publish articles or books,
are ignorant of one another's views. Very probably a large number of
pious and cultured people in the Catholic world feel as we do; and I
believe it would afford the greatest assistance in the spreading of our
opinions if we could, at least, know one another. To-night a few of us
are to meet together for a first discussion."

While Giovanni spoke, the others kept their eyes fixed on the Genevese.
The Abbe gazed steadily as his plate. A brief silence followed, and
Giovanni was the first to break it.

"Has Professor Dane not told you this?" he asked.

"Yes, yes," replied the Abbe, raising his eyes from his plate at last;
"he has told me something similar." The tone was that of one who only
half approves. But, why, then, had he come? Don Paolo looked displeased;
t