As for Lenore herself, she seemed to see nothing but devotion in Gerault’s attitude toward her. She sat with a smile upon her face, playing daintily with what she had to eat, answering any question or remark put to her with a straightforwardness that had in it no taint of self-consciousness, even addressing a sentence or two of her own to Courtoise on her right; but at the same time holding all heart and soul for Gerault. The Seigneur did not speak much with his wife, but answered her modest glances with an air of mild indulgence, taking small notice of anything that went on round him save the keen looks now and then shot from the scintillating green eyes of Alixe. Of all the tableful, Alixe was the only one that found any food for thought in the situation before her; and, surprisingly enough, the key to her reflections lay in the curious behavior of Courtoise, who, as time went on, became so uneasy, so fidgety, so restless, that Gerault finally leaned over the table and asked him rather sharply if he were ill. In the course of time, however, the last jack was emptied, the last song sung, the last questionable story told. Monseigneur de St. Nazaire rose and repeated the ending grace, and then the whole drowsy, witless company followed him into the glowing chapel, where a short mass was performed. Lenore and Gerault knelt side by side to the right of the altar, with Eleanore a little behind them, where she could watch the bright candle-rays vie with the radiance of Lenore’s golden hair, and see where the silvery bridal robe overlapped a little the edge of the gray surcoat of Le Crépuscule, that swept the floor beside it. The mother-eyes were all for the girlish form of the new daughter; and her heart went out again to Gerault, who had brought this fairy creature to Le Crépuscule, in place of her who had been so terribly mourned. Lenore listened to the repetition of the mass with a reverent air, but without much thinking of the familiar form. Her mind was busy with thoughts of these new surroundings and the faces of the new vassals and companions. Gerault, her beloved, was at her side; the great silver crucifix that hung over the altar gave her a sense of comfort and protection, and she found a restful pleasure in the tones of the Bishop’s voice. The bright candle-light that shone into her eyes produced in her a semi-hypnotic state, and she seemed to have knelt there at the altar but three or four minutes when the words of the benediction fell upon her ears, and presently the whole company was trooping out into the great hall, whence all signs of the feast had been removed.