ctrine, the saints will make you
believe; the priest can baptize you. He will be delighted, I am certain,
to save a soul from destruction." She could not restrain the flow of a
tear.

"My child," Chrysler said, for he saw that curiosity had led him too
far: "Leave this to God, who is greater than you or I and knows every
heart."

"Monsieur, then, believes in God!" Her present astonishment was equal to
that before.

The rising voices of the children relieved him. That of Elisa, who sat
in a ring of the rest, nodding her head decidedly and rhythmically, was
conspicuous:

"I am going to join the Sisterhood of the Holy Rosary and go to church
early, early, often, often, four times a day, and pray, pray, and say my
paters and my aves, and gain my indulgences, and be more devout than
Sister Jesus of God; and then I am going to take the novitiate and wear
a beautiful white veil and fast every day, and at last--at last--I am
going to be a Religieuse."

"What name will you take, Elisa?"

"I have decided," the little convent girl responded, "to take the name
of 'Sister St. Joseph of the Cradle.'"

"Mais, that is pretty, that! But I prefer 'St. Mary of the Saviour.'"

"What are you going to be?" Elisa asked of the smaller girl.

"I will be--I will be--I will take my first communion."

"I have taken it already," replied Elisa, with superiority.

"Henri! Henri! it is your turn."

"I am going to be an advocate."

"And I am going to be a Rouge," replied little Rudolphe.

"Hah,--we are all Rouges," replied Henri.

"O, well--I will be, then--Monseigneur, like Monsieur Chamilly."

The garden stretched behind the manor-house. Along its paths these
children delighted to explore the motherly currant-bushes. Old-fashioned
flowers stocked it, and, as Chrysler walked away among them, they
reminded him of the simple gardens of his childhood before the showy
house-plant era had modernized our grounds. There were erect groups and
rows of hollyhocks; monkshood offered its clusters of blue caps; striped
tulips and crimson poppies flourished in beds of generous shapes;
delicate astors, rich dahlias, and neat little bachelors' buttons peeped
in crowds from green freshnesses. This was one of Madame's domains,
where she walked, weeded and superintended every morning in broad straw
hat and apron; and it was to Chrysler one of the attractions of the
Manoir.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

GRANDMOULIN.

"Que Demosthenes,
En hara