All this astonished Irene. She had seen in her father’s house how learned men, almost all, as a rule ended by being Atheists and by regarding all religions as childish sentimentalities. How could these Catholic priests with their extensive education and intellectuality believe in naïve Christian legends? She had imagined that the Catholic Church had long ago abandoned these legends, but that having in its cleverness realized what centuries are needed for the transforming of an old religion into a new one, had allowed them to remain unrefuted, and to continue answering, as they did most satisfactorily, the spiritual necessities of millions of people. There are, of course, naturally virtuous souls who will always remain honest and true, and will always hate sin, to whatever religious opinions or negations they may adhere. But are there many such? The majority of the human race is still so uncultured that religion is the only means of keeping them more or less on the right path—religion, the fear of hell, and the hope of heaven! And so, thought Irene, the Catholic Church had decided, for the time being, to pretend to believe everything; and, for the happiness of the people, for the sake of law and order and culture, to resign not a single legend, nor a single dogma. And Irene, with all her heart, justified and applauded this magnificent deception! She had a great wish to see the Pope, and one day mentioned this desire to Père Etienne. To her astonishment, however, he answered coldly that this would be too great an honour for her, and that he was not yet sufficiently convinced of the sincerity of her faith to consider such an honour justifiable. “But,” murmured Irene timidly, “I am surely not asking for anything so extraordinary? His Holiness receives hundreds of Englishwomen and Americans every week.” “Yes!” exclaimed the old man indignantly, “and this is indeed a great abuse. These foreigners manage to get received, through sheer curiosity, and in order to be able to say to their friends at home: ‘We have been to Rome, and we have seen both the Pope and an aristocratic Italian fox-hunt. Both were very interesting.’ Don’t you see that for us—for true believers—this is an insufferable insult?” Irene felt confused and embarrassed. When, however, a short time later some friends offered her a ticket for one of the great papal functions, she could not resist the temptation, and, saying nothing to Père Etienne, accepted, and decided to go to the Vatican. IV Excited anticipation kept Irene awake during the whole night previous to the great occasion. She rose with the dawn, and laid ready her black dress and black lace veil, the traditional costume of all pilgrims received by the Pope.