“I have listened, M. Lantaigne,” said he, “with all the deference in the world to your opinions. But I still think one ought to use a more conciliatory style when one has to preach on a day which was one of mourning and yet, at the same time, one full of a hope that bade fair to bring about the reconciliation of opposing classes....” “Especially while stocks are going up, thus proving the wisdom of the course pursued by France and Europe on the Eastern question,” added M. Bergeret, with a malicious laugh. “Exactly so,” answered M. de Terremondre. “A Government which fights the Socialists and in which religious and conservative ideas have made an undeniable advance ought to be treated with respect. Our _préfet_, M. Worms-Clavelin, although he is both a Jew and a freemason, shows keen anxiety to protect the rights of the Church. Madame Worms-Clavelin has not only had her daughter baptized, but has sent her to a Parisian convent, where she is receiving an excellent education. I know this to be the case, for Mademoiselle Jeanne Clavelin is in the same class as my nieces, the d’Ansey girls. Madame Worms-Clavelin is patroness of several of our institutions, and in spite of her origin and her official position, she scarcely attempts the slightest concealment of her aristocratic and religious sympathies.” “I don’t doubt what you say in the least,” said M. Bergeret, “and you might even go so far as to say that at the present time French Catholicism has no stronger support than among the rich Jews.” “You are not far wrong,” answered M. de Terremondre. “The Jews give generously in support of Catholic charities.... But the shocking part of Père Ollivier’s sermon is that he was ready, as it were, to imply that God Himself was the original author and inspirer of this disaster. According to his words, it would seem that the God of mercy Himself actually set fire to the bazaar. My aunt d’Ansey, who was present at the service, came away in a great state of indignation. I feel sure, Monsieur l’abbé, that you cannot approve of such errors as these.” Usually M. Lantaigne refused to rush into random theological discussions with worldly-minded people who knew nothing about the subject, and although he was an ardent controversialist, his priestly habit of mind deterred him from engaging in disputes on frivolous occasions, such as the present one. He therefore remained silent, and it was M. Bergeret who replied to M. de Terremondre: “You would have preferred then,” said he, “that this monk should make excuses for a merciful God who had carelessly allowed a disaster to happen in a badly-inspected point in His creation. You think that he should have ascribed to the Almighty the sad, regretful, and chastened attitude of a police inspector who has made a mistake.” “You are making fun of me now,” said M. de Terremondre. “But was it really necessary to talk about expiatory victims and the destroying angel? Surely these are ideas that belong to a past age?”