“When I was in Paris, attached to one of the parishes on the left bank of the Seine, in which there is a huge draper’s and fancy shop, I had to deal with a very curious class of women.  Especially on days when there was a great show of cotton and linen goods, or a sale of bankrupt stock, there was a perfect rush of well-dressed women to the confessional.  These people lived on the other side of the water; they had come to that part of the town to buy bargains, and finding the departments of the shop too full, no doubt, they meant to wait till the crowd should be thinner, to make their selection in comfort; so then, not knowing what to be doing, they took refuge in the church, and, tortured by the need for speech, they asked for the priest whose turn it was to attend, and to justify themselves, chattered in the confessional as if it had been a drawing-room, merely to kill time.”

“Not being able to go to a cafe like a man, they go to church,” said Durtal.

“Unless it is,” said Madame Bavoil, “that they would rather confide to an unknown priest the sins it would pain them to confess to their own director.”

“At any rate, this is a new light on things:  the influence of big shops on the tribunal of penance!” exclaimed Durtal.

“And of railway stations,” added the Abbe Gevresin.

“How of railway stations?”

“Yes, I assure you that churches situated near railway stations have a special following of women on their journeys.  There it is that our dear Madame Bavoil’s shrewd remark finds justification.  Many a country-woman who has the Cure of her own parish to dinner dares not tell him the tale of her adultery, because he could too easily guess the name of her lover, and because the propinquity of a priest living on intimate terms in her house would be inconvenient; so she takes advantage of an excursion to Paris to open her heart to another confessor who does not know her.  As a general rule, when a woman speaks ill of her Cure, and begins the tale of her confession by explaining that he is dull, uneducated, unsympathetic in understanding and guiding souls, you may be certain that a confession is coming of sin against the sixth (seventh) Commandment.”

“Well, well; the people who flutter around the Lord are cool hands!” exclaimed Madame Bavoil.

“They are unhappy creatures, who try to strike a balance between their duties and their vices.

“But enough of this; let us turn to something more immediate.  Have you brought us the article on the Angelico, as you promised?  Read it to us.”

Durtal brought out of his pocket the manuscript he had finished, which was to be posted that evening to Paris.

He seated himself in one of the straw-bottomed arm-chairs in the middle of the room where they were sitting with the Abbe Gevresin, and began:—­

     THE CORONATION OF THE VIRGIN. 
    By Fra Angelico.  In the Louvre.