'You would never stay there!' said Estelle; 'you would push us over the
rock like Mentor. I think you are our Mentor, for I am sure you tell
us a great deal, and you don't scold.'

'Mentor was a cross old man,' said Ulysse.

To which Estelle replied that he was a goddess; and Arthur very
decidedly disclaimed either character, especially the pushing over
rocks. And thus they glided on, spending a night in the great, busy,
bewildering city of Lyon, already the centre of silk industry; but more
interesting to the travellers as the shrine of the martyrdoms. All
went to pray at the Cathedral except Arthur. The time was not come for
heeding church architecture or primitive history; and he only wandered
about the narrow crooked streets, gazing at the toy piles of market
produce, and looking at the stalls of merchandise, but as one unable to
purchase. His mother had indeed contrived to send him twenty guineas,
but he knew that he must husband them well in case of emergencies, and
Lady Nithsdale had sewn them all up, except one, in a belt which he
wore under his clothes.

He had arrived at the front of the Cathedral when the party came out.
Madame de Bourke had been weeping, but looked more peaceful than he had
yet seen her, and Estelle was much excited. She had bought a little
book, which she insisted on her Mentor's reading with her, though his
Protestant feelings recoiled.

'Ah!' said Estelle, 'but you are not Christian.'

'Yes, truly, Mademoiselle.'