amplight,
seemed as if made of beautiful ivory. Then, while the smile of perfect
confidence came back to her lips, she said simply:

"If Monseigneur refuses, it is because he waits to know me."

That night Angelique slept but little. The idea that to see her would
enable at once Monseigneur to decide in her favor haunted her. There was
in it no personal, feminine vanity, but she was under the influence of a
deep, intense love, and her true affection for Felicien was so evident,
she was sure that when his father realised it he could not be so
obstinate as to make them both unhappy. Many times she turned restlessly
in her bed as she pictured what would happen. Before her closed eyes
Monseigneur constantly passed in his violet-coloured robe. Perhaps it
was, indeed, through him, and by him, that the expected miracle was to
appear. The warm night was sleeping without, and she eagerly listened
for the voices, trying to know what the trees, the Chevrotte, the
Cathedral, her chamber itself, peopled with such friendly shadows,
advised her to do. But there was only an indistinct humming, and nothing
precise came to her. It seemed, however, as if mysterious whispers
encouraged her to persevere. At last she grew impatient of these too
slow certitudes, and as she fell asleep she surprised herself by saying:

"To-morrow I will speak to Monseigneur."

When she awoke, her proposed plan seemed not only quite natural but
necessary. It was ingenuous and brave; born of a proud and great purity.

She knew that at five o'clock on every Saturday afternoon Monseigneur
went to kneel in the Chapel Hautecoeur, where he liked to pray alone,
giving himself up entirely to the past of his race and to himself,
seeking a solitude which was respected by all connected with the
Cathedral. As it fortunately happened, this was a Saturday. She quickly
came to a decision. At the Bishop's Palace, not only would she be apt
to find it difficult to be received, but, on the other hand, there were
always so many people about she would be ill at ease; whilst it would
be so simple to await him in the chapel, and to introduce herself to
Monseigneur as soon as he appeared. That day she embroidered with her
usual application and composure. Firm in her wish, sure of doing the
right thing, she had no impatient fever of expectation. When it was
four o'clock she spoke of going to see the _mere_ Gabet, and went out,
dressed as for an ordinary walk, wearing her little gar