continued Hubertine. "At all events, a fortnight later he entered into
Holy Orders, and soon became a priest. That was twenty years ago, and
now he is a bishop. But I have also been told that during all this time
he has refused to see his son, the child whose birth cost the life of
its mother. He had placed him with an uncle of his wife's, an old abbot,
not wishing even to hear of him, and trying to forget his existence. One
day a picture of the boy was sent him, but in looking at it he found
so strong a resemblance to his beloved dead that he fell on the floor
unconscious and stiff, as if he had received a blow from a hammer. . . .
Now age and prayer have helped to soften his deep grief, for yesterday
the good Father Cornille told me that Monseigneur had just decided to
send for his son to come to him."

Angelique, having finished her rose, so fresh and natural that perfume
seemed to be exhaled from it, looked again through the window into the
sunny garden, and, as if in a reverie, she said in a low voice: "The son
of Monseigneur!"

Hubertine continued her story.

"It seems that the young man is handsome as a god, and his father wished
him to be educated for the priesthood. But the old abbot would not
consent to that, saying that the youth had not the slightest inclination
in that direction. And then, to crown all, his wealth, it is said, is
enormous. Two million pounds sterling! Yes, indeed! His mother left
him a tenth of that sum, which was invested in land in Paris, where the
increase in the price of real estate has been so great, that to-day it
represents fifty millions of francs. In short, rich as a king!"

"Rich as a king, beautiful as a god!" repeated Angelique unconsciously,