ncle, God did not make women intending them not to marry;
otherwise they ought all to stay unmarried; if not, they ought all to
marry. There's great injustice in the distribution of parts."

"Daughter," said the worthy abbe, "you are blaming the Church, which
declares celibacy to be the better way to God."

"But if the Church is right, and all the world were good Catholics,
wouldn't the human race come to an end, uncle?"

"You have too much mind, Rose; you don't need so much to be happy."

That remark brought a smile of satisfaction to the lips of the poor
woman, and confirmed her in the good opinion she was beginning to
acquire about herself. That is how the world, our friends, and our
enemies are the accomplices of our defects!

At this moment the conversation was interrupted by the successive
arrival of the guests. On these ceremonial days, friendly
familiarities were exchanged between the servants of the house and the
company. Mariette remarked to the chief-justice as he passed the
kitchen:--

"Ah, Monsieur du Ronceret, I've cooked the cauliflowers au gratin
expressly for you, for mademoiselle knows how you like them; and she
said to me: 'Now don't forget, Mariette, for Monsieur du Ronceret is
coming.'"

"That good Mademoiselle Cormon!" ejaculated the chief legal authority
of the town. "Mariette, did you steep them in gravy instead of
soup-stock? it is much richer."

The chief-justice was not above entering the chamber of council where
Mariette held court; he cast the eye of a gastronome around it, and
offered the advice of a past master in cookery.

"Good-day, madame," said Josette to Madame Granson, who courted the
maid. "Mademoiselle has thought of you, and there's fish for dinner."

As for the Chevalier de Valois, he remarked to Mariette, in the easy
tone of a great seigneur who condescends to be familiar:--

"Well, my dear cordon-bleu, to whom I should give the cross of the
Legion of honor, is there some little dainty for which I had better
reserve myself?"

"Yes, yes, Monsieur de Valois,--a hare sent from Prebaudet; weighs
fourteen pounds."

Du Bousquier was not invited. Mademoiselle Cormon, faithful to the
system which we know of, treated that fifty-year-old suitor extremely
ill, although she felt inexplicable sentiments towards him in the
depths of her heart. She had refused him; yet at times she repented;
and a presentiment that she should yet marry him, together with a
terror at the idea w