"I feared I should displease you, mademoiselle, by being more familiar." "Once more I beseech you to say 'Ernestine' and not mademoiselle. Are we not relatives? And after a little, if you find I am deserving of your love, you will say 'My dear Ernestine,' will you not?" "Ah, my affection was won the moment I saw you, my dear Ernestine," replied Helena, with effusion. "I could see that all the Christian graces, so adorable in one of your years, flourished in your heart. I will not speak of your beauty, though it is so charmingly spirituelle in its type, for you look like one of Raphael's madonnas. Beauty," continued the devotee, casting down her eyes, "beauty is a fleeting gift and valueless in the eyes of the Saviour, while the noble qualities with which you are endowed will ensure your eternal salvation." Overwhelmed by this avalanche of extravagant praise, the orphan did not know what to say in reply, and could only stammer a feeble protest: "I do not deserve such praise, mademoiselle," she said, "and--and--" Then, well pleased to discover a means of escaping this flattery which made a singularly unpleasant impression upon her in spite of her inexperience, she added: "But you said you wished to ask me something, did you not, mademoiselle?" "Yes," responded Helena, "I came to ask your wishes in regard to service to-morrow." "What service, mademoiselle?" "Why, the holy office we attend every day." Then, seeing that Ernestine evinced some surprise, Mlle. Helena added, sanctimoniously: "We go every day to pray an hour for the souls of your father and mother." Until then the young girl had never had any fixed hour to pray for her father and mother. The orphan prayed nearly all day; that is to say, almost every minute she was thinking with pious respect and ineffable tenderness of the parents whose loss she so deeply deplored. Now, scarcely daring to decline mademoiselle's invitation, Ernestine sadly replied: "I thank you for the kind thought, mademoiselle. I will accompany you, of course." "The nine o'clock mass would be most suitable, I think," said the devotee, "and that is said in the Chapel of the Virgin, for whom you have a special preference, I think you remarked last evening, Ernestine." "Yes, mademoiselle, every Sunday in Italy I attended mass in the Chapel of the Madonna. She, too, was a mother, so it seemed most fitting that I should address my prayers for my mother to her." "They will certainly prove efficacious, Ernestine, and as you have commenced your devotions under the invocation of the mother of our blessed Saviour, it would be well to continue them under the same protection, so we will perform our devotions in the Chapel of the Virgin every morning at nine o'clock." "I will be ready, mademoiselle." "Then will you authorise me to give the necessary orders so your carriage and servants will be ready at that hour?" "My carriage,--my servants?"