“You are trembling.  Why is that?”

The younger sister looked appealingly to the elder. “Chere,” Mlle. Corinne said to the girl, “we are anxiouz to confezz you something.  We woul’n’ never be anxiouz to confezz that, only we’re af-raid already you’ve foun’ us out!”

“Yes.  I came this evening by Ovide’s shop to return a book——­”

“An’ he tell you he’s meet us——?”

“On the steps of the archeveche.”

“Ah, cherie,” Yvonne tearfully broke in, “can you ever pardon that to us?”

Aline smiled:  “Oh, yes; in the course of time, I suppose.  That was not like a drinking-saloon.”

“Ah-h! not in the leas’!  We di’n’ touch there a drop—­nobodie di’n’ offer us!”

The niece addressed the other aunt:  “Go on.  Tell me why you were there.”

“Aline, we’ll confess us!  We wend there biccause—­we are orphan’!  Of co’se, we know that biffo’, sinze long time, many, many year’; but only sinze a few day’——­”

“Joy-ride day,” Aline put in, a bit tensely.

“Ah, no! Cherie, you muz’ not supose——­”

“Never mind; ’last few days’—­go on.”

“Well, sinze those laz’ few day’ we bigin to feel like we juz’ got to take step’ ab-oud that!”

“So you took those steps of the archeveche.”

“Chere, we’ll tell you!  Yvonne and me, avter all those many ’appy year’ with you, we think we want—­ah, cherie, you’ll pardon that?—­we want ad the laz’ to live independent!  So we go ad the archbishop.  And he say, ’How I’m going to make you that?  You think to be independent by biccoming Sizter’ of Charitie—­of Mercy—­of St. Joseph?’

“‘Ah, no,’ we say, ’we have not the geniuz to be those; not even to be Li’l’-Sizter’-of-the-Poor.  All we want—­and we coul’n’ make ourselv’ the courage to ask you that, only we’ve save’ you so large egspenses not asking you that already sinze twenty-thirty year’ aggo—­we want you to put us in orphan asylum.’  We was af-raid at firz’ he’s goin’ to be mad; but he smile very kine and say:  ’Yes, yes; you want, like the good Lord say, to biccome like li’l’ children, eh?’

“‘Ah, yes!’ we tell him, ’tha’z what we be glad to do.  They got nothing in the worl’ we can do, Yvonne and me, so easy like that!  And same time we be no egspense, like those li’l’ orpheline’; we can wash dish’, make bed’, men’ apron’; and in that way we be independent!’ Well, he scratch his head; yet same time he smile’, while he say, ’Go, li’l’ children, to yo’ home.  I’ll see if Mere Veronique can figs that, and if yes, I’ll san’ for you.’  And, cherie, juz’ the way he said that, we are sure he’s goin’ to san’.”

With her tears running freely Aline softly laughed.  She rose, took a hand of each aunt, laid the two together, bent low, and kissed them, saying:  “He will not, for he shall not.  Nothing shall ever part us but heaven.”