the children outside. As
soon as we entered we found ourselves almost in darkness, what little
light there was proceeding from great wax candles; and there was a good
deal of tawdry finery and trumpery all about, and a strong smell of
incense. I was looking about me with curiosity and interest, mixed with
a certain repulsion, when Madeleine, in an eager undertone, exclaimed,
"There she is!" and pressed forward, I close following, to a little
side-altar, where Gabrielle and Alice were listening, with amused
wonder, to a priest, who was telling a group of people about him that
what he was exhibiting to them was one of Mary Magdalen's bones; and
that she and Lazarus, and Martha his sister, had put to sea in an old
boat, and in process of time, after being sorely buffeted by winds and
waves, had been cast ashore at Marseilles, where they preached the
gospel to the natives, and converted them all.

I did not believe one word of this, nor did Madeleine, who drew her
reluctant sister away; and when we got her into the open air, rebuked
her for doing what their father would not approve. Gabrielle looked
inclined to defend herself, and make a joke of it. However, a great bell
began to clang so near us as to drown her voice; people were pushing
past us into church, and we found ourselves going against the stream,
and made the best of our way out of it, and back to our quarters.
My father and M. Bourdinave were standing at the door, conversing with
my uncle, and when they saw us they smiled, and my father said, with
unwonted softness in his tone, "Well, children, are you come back? Have
you enjoyed yourselves?" and looked earnestly at Madeleine, whose eyes
sank under his.

My uncle Nicolas kept a mercer's shop, and his shelves and counters were
now so laden with goods that it was difficult to steer our way through
them to the steep stair which led to the floor above; and that, too, was
converted, for the time, into a kind of warehouse; but above that was
the living-room, and above that, again, numerous bedrooms with sloping
sides, and small windows piercing the steep roof. My aunt Jeanne was
good and hospitable to excess. She would not let M. Bourdinave and his
family return to their lodging till they had supped with her, though
there were other guests; so we were jammed rather closely around the
table with little elbow-room. Then ensued clinking of glasses, clatter
of plates, dishes, knives, forks, the buzzing of many tongues, s