‘The curé of S. Julien entreats me to interfere--some widow who has been wronged--bah!’ and that letter followed the first.
‘“I have allowed nine months to elapse since the _vicaire_ of Vernon was appointed, and the licence has not yet been forwarded; wherefore, knowing the uncertainty of the post, he is confident that the omission is due to the neglect of the postman, and not of the forgetfulness of the bishop.” Humph! inclined to insolence. That is the way these young curates behave! You shall await my convenience, M. Dufour.’ This letter was crumpled up, and thrown at the basket.
‘An altar to S. Joseph! The clergy of Louviers are desirous--and so on. Well, Louviers is a large place. S. Joseph the patron of the Jesuits; at any other time than this, my good friends.’ Away sped this appeal. ‘“The curé of Beaumont ventures to observe that it is two years since the last confirmation, and that the children are growing up and leaving the district.” Confound his impudence! My rule is plain enough, to hold a confirmation every year in the large towns, Évreux and Louviers; one every second year in the smaller towns; and one every third year in the rural districts. Sister! enclose a printed slip with that notice to the curé of Beaumont.’
‘What have we here? So, ho! a note from M. Berthier, Intendant of Paris, written at his country seat, near Bernay, about Thomas Lindet, who has behaved to him without proper respect, and whose revolutionary principles render him a dangerous person to be the curé of a large and important town. Pass me my paper-case, Ponce, my good fellow, I will send him a note in return to thank him for the information, and to promise that the curé shall be reprimanded and cautioned. Intendant of Paris! a man of consequence, is he not, Ponce, eh?’
‘A man of very great consequence, my Lord; his father-in-law is M. Foulon, a great person at Court, as your lordship must know.’
If the bishop had attended to his sister instead of to his letters, he would have observed that she was carefully placing the deal box underneath the divan or sofa, which occupied one side of the little room.
‘Can I assist you, Mademoiselle?’ asked M. Ponce.
‘On no account,’ replied the lady with evident alarm and agitation.