“Mamma,” resumed Jeanne with a child’s wonted stubbornness, “she is looking at you; she is nodding good-day to you.” At this intimation Hélène was forced to turn round and exchange greetings; each bowed to the other. Madame Deberle, in a striped silk gown trimmed with white lace, sat in the centre of the nave but a short distance from the choir, looking very fresh and conspicuous. She had brought her sister Pauline, who was now busy waving her hand. The chanting still continued, the elder members of the congregation pouring forth a volume of sound of falling scale, while now and then the shrill voice of the children punctuated the slow, monotonous rhythm of the canticle. “They want us to go over to them, you see,” exclaimed Jeanne, with some triumph in her remark. “It is useless; we shall be all right here.” “Oh, mamma, do let us go over to them! There are two chairs empty.” “No, no; come and sit down.” However, the ladies smilingly persisted in making signs, heedless to the last degree of the slight scandal they were causing; nay, delighted at being the observed of all observers. Hélène thus had to yield. She pushed the gratified Jeanne before her, and strove to make her way through the congregation, her hands all the while trembling with repressed anger. It was no easy business. Devout female worshippers, unwilling to disturb themselves, glared at her with furious looks, whilst all agape they kept on singing. She pressed on in this style for five long minutes, the tempest of voices ringing around her with ever-increasing violence. Whenever she came to a standstill, Jeanne, squeezing close beside her, gazed at those cavernous, gaping mouths. However, at last they reached the vacant space in front of the choir, and then had but a few steps to make. “Come, be quick,” whispered Madame Deberle. “The Abbé told me you would be coming, and I kept two chairs for you.” Hélène thanked her, and, to cut the conversation short, at once began turning over the leaves of her missal. But Juliette was as worldly here as elsewhere; as much at her ease, as agreeable and talkative, as in her drawing-room. She bent her head towards Hélène and resumed: “You have become quite invisible. I intended to pay you a visit to-morrow. Surely you haven’t been ill, have you?” “No, thank you. I’ve been very busy.” “Well, listen to me. You must come and dine with us to-morrow. Quite a family dinner, you know.” “You are very kind. We will see.”