But, as he read, his face changed, and he cast an anxious, sorrowful glance towards Clémence. Almost at the same moment a cry broke from her lips, “Oh, Henri--Henri!” Ivan went quickly to her side, and laid his hand tenderly on her shoulder. “Henri has--has become a Protestant!” she faltered, in tones of dismay. “So he tells me,” said Ivan. “This letter is from him. He writes like the noble-hearted Christian man that he is. Clémence, you must not grieve for him. He has done well to obey the voice of his conscience.” “But our mother--it is such a blow for her,” Clémence said mournfully. “Yes; I am sorry for her--_very_. But, m’amie, God will help her to bear it, and bring good out of it in the end. _I_ do not think the change of creed such a weighty matter. What does anything else signify, so long as a man believes in our Lord Jesus Christ?” After a pause he resumed, taking up another letter, “Emile will give us an impartial statement of the case. Let us see what he says.” “Emile has behaved well,” Clémence observed, looking over the remainder of her letter. “My mother says Madame de Salgues was so angry, that, but for Emile, she and Henri must have left her house and gone to live in some poor lodging. But Emile reasoned with her, reminding her that he himself was once an infidel and a scoffer, which is worse than a Protestant, yet she never dreamed of forbidding him the house; and so, not being noticed, he grew tired of scoffing, and became in time like other people. He told her Henri would probably do the same; and pleaded, moreover, that his conduct had been always regular and blameless, and could bring nothing but credit to any one.” “He says as much for him here,” said Ivan, reading from Emile’s letter. “‘My cousin is really miserable about the soul of her son, which she thinks to be in peril; while my grandmother is only annoyed at what she considers a social degradation. In the eyes of the one, Protestantism is heretical; in those of the other, it is “bourgeoise.” My grandmother fancies that Henri was demoralized by his campaign under the Emperor’s standard, whereas Henri himself says that it was only then he learned what religion meant. I cannot profess to understand the matter, not being myself religious; but there is certainly a curious connection, not to say confusion, between saintliness and heresy. Henri is religious--he is “converted;” yet he is called a heretic, and mourned over by your excellent mother-in-law as next to an infidel, and on the highroad to perdition. He has a fast friend in little Stéphanie, who takes his part in season and out of season. I am rather glad of it; for the child had almost ceased to be amusing, Madame de Krudener tamed her so effectually.’--You must write to your mother, Clémence,” said Ivan, laying down the letter, “and pray her to be tender and patient with Henri.”