But when the Angel had passed through the door, and all that was to be seen of him in the door-way was his uplifted heel, Maurice called him back. "Arcade! I never thought of it! I have no guardian angel now!" "Quite true, Maurice, you have one no longer." "Then what will become of me? One must have a guardian angel. Tell me,--are there not grave drawbacks,--is there no danger in not having one?" "Before replying, Maurice, I must ask you if you wish me to speak to you according to your belief, which formerly was my own, according to the teaching of the Church and the Catholic faith, or according to natural philosophy." "I don't care a straw for your natural philosophy. Answer me according to the religion I believe in, and which I profess, and in which I wish to live and die." "Very well, my dear Maurice. The loss of your guardian angel will probably deprive you of certain spiritual succour, of certain celestial grace. I am expressing to you the unvarying opinion of the Church on the matter. You will lack an assistance, a support, a consolation which would have guided and confirmed you in the way of salvation. You will have less strength to avoid sin, and as it was you hadn't much. In fact, in spiritual matters, you will be without strength and without joy. Adieu, Maurice; when you see Madame des Aubels, please remember me to her." "You are going?" "Farewell." Arcade disappeared, and Maurice in the depths of an arm-chair sat for a long time with his head in his hands. CHAPTER XII WHEREIN IT IS SET FORTH HOW THE ANGEL MIRAR, WHEN BEARING GRACE AND CONSOLATION TO THOSE DWELLING IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF THE CHAMPS ÉLYSÉES IN PARIS, BEHELD A MUSIC-HALL SINGER NAMED BOUCHOTTE AND FELL IN LOVE WITH HER