A long silence followed. Mademoiselle Blanche turned again to the fire, and Jules had a sensation of extreme unpleasantness. Like many Parisians, he never thought about religion. He had been so affected by the skepticism of his associates that he had no real belief in any doctrine. He saw now for the first time that serious complications might arise from his religious indifference. It was very disagreeable, he thought, to be confronted with it in this way. Indeed, the more he thought about it, the more annoyed he became. He felt that he must justify himself in some way. So at last he spoke up: "I suppose you're shocked because I don't go to church, aren't you, mademoiselle?" Mademoiselle Blanche looked down at her hands lying folded in her lap. "I'm sorry." "Sorry?" he repeated, trying to laugh. "Why are you sorry? I rather like it. I never did enjoy going to church." "We don't go to church to enjoy it, do we?" she asked gently. He sank back in his seat, and looked at her. "No, I suppose not." Then, after a moment, he suddenly leaned forward. "We can't all be good like you, mademoiselle. Perhaps if I had known you always, I should go to church. I'd do anything to please you." "But you ought not to go to please me. You ought to go for your own good." "So you think it does good, then--going to church?" "I'm sure of it," she replied, gazing into the fire. "Sometimes,--when I feel unhappy because I haven't seen the girls for so long, and because I must be separated from them so much, or when Aunt Sophie complains about Jeanne, or Jeanne has been unkind to Louise, or disobedient, then, after I've been to church, I feel better." "Why do you feel better?" he asked, more to keep her talking than because he cared for her answer. "Because I feel sure," she went on, holding her head down, "I feel sure it will all come out right--if I only have faith. Jeanne is a good girl; she's never disobedient or unkind with me." "Then you worry about Jeanne?" "Yes--sometimes." "But you don't worry so much after you've been at church?" "No." "And that is why you like to go to church?" "That's one reason. But there are others--a great many others." He felt like laughing at the simplicity of her reasoning, and yet he was touched. He had a sudden desire to take her in his arms and stroke her soft hair and tell her he loved her. Then he heard her mother's step in the next room, and this roused him. "I should like to go to church with you sometimes," he said. "May I?" "Take him to-morrow, Blanche," cried Madame Perrault, and at that moment Jules could have kissed her, too. "There's going to be a special service at _St. Philippe de Roule_ at ten o'clock. The music will be good."