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"And how is it," asked Madame Bavoil, "that this colour, which is all innocence, all purity, the colour of Our Mother Herself, has disappeared from among the liturgical hues?"
"I beg your pardon, our friend!" cried Madame Bavoil, "there was the Venerable Jeanne de Matel, who was born at Roanne." "Yes, but she was the daughter of an Italian father who was born at Florence," said the Abbé Gévresin, who, hearing the bell ring for Nones, now folded up his table napkin.
Eucher as emblematic of perfection, chastity, and the evangelical doctrine." "And all this time you are forgetting the meaning of other well-known gems," cried Madame Bavoil. "The ruby, the garnet, the aqua-marine; are they speechless?" "No," replied Durtal. "The ruby speaks of tranquility and patience; the garnet, Innocent III. tells us, symbolizes charity. St. Bruno and St.
"You don't get the like at La Trappe, our friend, eh?" said Madame Bavoil. "Nor will he get anything so good at any other religious retreat," said the Abbé Plomb. "Do not discourage me beforehand," said Durtal, laughing; "let me enjoy this without a pang there is a time for all things."
You must have milk or water to dip your sop in!" "Dear me," said Durtal, "by way of high feeding I can improve on that. I remember reading in an old book the story of the Blessed Catherine of Cardona, who, without using her hands, cropped the grass, on her knees, among the asses." It had not struck Madame Bavoil that the friends were speaking in fun, and she replied quite humbly,
She seemed to live in perfect friendship with them, and spoke of them as of companions with whom she chatted without any embarrassment. Then the countenance of this woman, whom the priest introduced to him as Madame Céleste Bavoil, was, strange to say, the least of it. She was thin and upright, but short.
"Anger," the Abbé Plomb went on, "is symbolized by a shrub with pinkish flowers, a kind of bitter-sweet, as it is popularly called, and by Herb Basil, which ever since the Middle Ages has had the same character ascribed to it of cruelty and rage as to its namesake, the basilisk, in the animal world." "Oh!" cried Madame Bavoil, "and we use it to season dishes and flavour certain sauces."
They had to cross a bridge that groaned under the weight of rolling trains, and turned to the right down a path winding between the embankment on one side, and on the other thatched huts, and old sheds, and other houses less poverty-stricken, indeed, but closed and impenetrable after daybreak. Madame Bavoil led him to where this alley ended under the arch of another bridge.
Although he was deeply grieved at this move, which he had done his utmost to hinder, Durtal was refractory, and refused to bury himself in a country town. "But why, our friend," said Madame Bavoil, "I wonder why you are so obstinately bent on remaining here; you live in perfect solitude at home with your books. You can do the same if you come with us."
"And all this time," said the housekeeper, "you do not think of making use in your building of the iris, which my good Jeanne de Matel regards as an emblem of peace." "Oh, we will find a place for it, Madame Bavoil, never fear.
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