watered with some deadly acid. How should a lover be aware of bigotry
so well hidden?

This was the course of young Granville's feelings during that
fortnight, devoured by him like a book of which the end is absorbing.
Angelique, carefully watched by him, seemed the gentlest of creatures,
and he even caught himself feeling grateful to Madame Bontems, who, by
implanting so deeply the principles of religion, had in some degree
inured her to meet the troubles of life.

On the day named for signing the inevitable contract, Madame Bontems
made her son-in-law pledge himself solemnly to respect her daughter's
religious practices, to allow her entire liberty of conscience, to
permit her to go to communion, to church, to confession as often as
she pleased, and never to control her choice of priestly advisers. At
this critical moment Angelique looked at her future husband with such
pure and innocent eyes, that Granville did not hesitate to give his
word. A smile puckered the lips of the Abbe Fontanon, a pale man, who
directed the consciences of this household. Mademoiselle Bontems, by a
slight nod, seemed to promise that she would never take an unfair
advantage of this freedom. As to the old Count, he gently whistled the
tune of an old song, _Va-t-en-voir s'ils viennent_ ("Go and see if
they are coming on!")



A few days after the wedding festivities of which so much is thought
in the provinces, Granville and his wife went to Paris, whither the
young man was recalled by his appointment as public prosecutor to the
Supreme Court of the Seine circuit.