stories she told about Victorine's liking flowers. I thought she would
never come back, she was such a time, quite three-quarters of an hour;
and it was horrid sitting there alone, with every creature staring as
they passed.

Directly after she went in I caught a glimpse of "Antoine" in a
_coupé_, going at a great pace, but I could not make him see me before
he had turned down the street that goes to the back of the Madeleine. I
wish he had seen me, for, although I never like him very much, he would
have been better than nobody to talk to. I believe I should have even
been glad to see Lord Valmond. At last I got so cross, what with the
people staring, and the heat and the smells, that I jumped out and went
to look for Héloise in the church. She was nowhere to be seen, and I
did not like to peer into every box I came to, so at last I was going
back to the cab again, when from the end door that leads out into the
other street at the back, the rue Tronchet, she came tearing along
completely _essoufflée_. So I suppose there must be some confessing
place beyond. She seemed quite cross with me for having come to find
her, and said it was not at all proper to walk about a church alone,
which does seem odd, doesn't it, Mamma? As one would have thought if
there was any place really respectable to stroll in, it would have been
a church.

[Sidenote: _Church Etiquette_]

I told her how bored I was, and about "Antoine" passing, and how I had
tried to make him see. She seemed more annoyed than ever, and said I
_must_ have made some mistake, as "Antoine" was not in Paris. She was
awfully shocked at the idea of my wanting to speak to him in the street
anyway, and said I surely must know it was the custom here for the men