"Then a terrible doubt seized me," continued M. de Macreuse, with a heavy sigh. "I said to myself that perhaps you did not possess those rare virtues which I so greatly admire and which I was confident I should find in you, but I could not and would not believe it at first, preferring to attribute your words to the thoughtlessness of youth. But alas! your frivolity, vanity, hardness of heart, and impiety became more and more apparent as our conversation proceeded. I wished to convince myself thoroughly, however, and though my heart bled each moment, I wanted to overcome your insensibility to all that is pitiable, your contempt for all that is sacred. I even went so far as to seem to scoff at that which is dearest to me in life,--my religion and the memory of my mother." And a tear glistened on the lashes of the abbe's disciple. "It was a test, then, in his case, as in mine," thought Ernestine. "I feigned the most pernicious sentiments," continued M. de Macreuse, waxing more and more indignant, "and you did not utter a word of censure or even of surprise! At last I pushed flattery, cowardice, and baseness to their utmost limits, and you remained calm and approving instead of crushing me with the scorn I deserved. It has been a terrible ordeal for me, for the blow to my hopes is as unexpected as it is overwhelming. All is over now. Pardon a severity of language to which you are little accustomed, mademoiselle, but understand, once for all, that I will never devote my life to any woman, who is not worthy both of my love and my respect." And with a stern and dignified air M. de Macreuse bowed low to Ernestine, and walked away, leaving her speechless with astonishment. "I thank God that I was mistaken," thought the poor child, with a feeling of profound relief. "Such hypocrisy, deceit, and unscrupulousness are an impossibility. M. de Macreuse was horrified by the sentiments I expressed, consequently he must possess a sincere and upright soul." The reflections of this artless girl, who was so ill fitted to cope with the wily founder of the St. Polycarpe mission, were interrupted by Mesdames de Rochaigue and de Senneterre, who, having seen Mlle. de Beaumesnil enter the gallery in company with M. de Macreuse, had hastened after her, thinking the young girl intended to partake of some refreshments, but the two ladies found her alone. "Why, what are you doing here, my own dearest?" inquired Madame de la Rochaigue. "I came here for a little fresh air, madame; it is so warm in the ballroom." "But the gallery is just as much too cool, my dear child, and you run a great risk of taking cold. You had better come back to the ballroom at once." "As you please, madame," replied Mlle. de Beaumesnil. As she reentered the ballroom, in company with the two ladies, she saw M. de Macreuse give her a despairing look; but he turned quickly away, as if he feared the young girl would perceive the sorrowful emotion to which he was a prey. CHAPTER XIII.