whom he glanced with a comical expression of triumph.

"I do not wish to look at it," responded Dorsenne. "But, yes," he
continued, as Montfanon shrugged his shoulders, "in my capacity of
novelist and observer, since you cast it at my head, I know already what
it is. What do you bet? . . . It is a prayer-book which bears the
signature of Marshal de Montluc, and which Cardinal Guerillot discovered.
Is that true? He spoke to Mademoiselle Hafner about it, and he thought
he would mitigate your animosity toward her by telling you she was an
enthusiast and wished to buy it. Is that true as well? And you,
wretched man, had only one thought, to deprive that poor little thing of
the trifle. Is that true? We spent the evening before last together at
Countess Steno's; she talked to me of nothing but her desire to have the
book on which the illustrious soldier, the great believer, had prayed.
She told me of all her heroic resolutions. Later she went to buy it.
But the shop was closed; I noticed it on passing, and you certainly went
there, too . . . . Is that true? . . . And, now that I have
detailed to you the story, explain to me, you who are so just, why you
cherish an antipathy so bitter and so childish--excuse the word!--for an
innocent, young girl, who has never speculated on 'Change, who is as
charitable as a whole convent, and who is fast becoming as devout as
yourself. Were it not for her father, who will not listen to the thought
of conversion before marriage, she would already be a Catholic, and--
Protestants as they are for the moment--she would never go anywhere but
to church . . . . When she is altogether a Catholic, and under the
protection of a Sainte-Claudine and a Sainte-Francoise, as you are under
the protection of Saint-Claude and Saint-Francois, you will have to lay
down your arms, old leaguer, and acknowledge the sincerity of the
religious sentiments of that child who has never harmed you."