“Just as your highness pleases,” said Mrs. Grivois, as she placed two enormous logs on the fire; “but in such a heat as there is here his Lordship might really be suffocated.”

“I also find it too warm; but does not our holy religion teach us lessons of self-sacrifice and mortification?” said the princess, with a touching expression of devotion.

We have now explained the cause of the rather gay attire of the princess.  She was preparing for a reception of prelates, who, along with Father d’Aigrigny and other dignitaries of the Church, had already held at the princely house a sort of council on a small scale.  A young bride who gives her first ball, an emancipated minor who gives his first bachelor’s dinner, a woman of talent who reads aloud for the first time her first unpublished work, are not more joyous and proud, and, at the same time, more attentive to their guests, than was this lady with her prelates.  To behold great interests discussed in her house, and in her presence, to hear men of acknowledged ability ask her advice upon certain practical matters relating to the influence of female congregations, filled the princess with pride, as her claims to consideration were thus sanctioned by Lordships and Eminences, and she took the position, as it were, of a mother of the Church.  Therefore, to win these prelates, whether native or foreign, she had recourse to no end of saintly flatteries and sanctified coaxing.  Nor could anything be more logical than these successive transfigurations of this heartless woman, who only loved sincerely and passionately the pursuit of intrigue and domination.  With the progress of age, she passed naturally from the intrigues of love to those of politics, and from the latter to those of religion.

At the moment she finished inspecting her preparations, the sound of coaches was heard in the courtyard, apprising her of the arrival of the persons she had been expecting.  Doubtless, these persons were of the highest rank, for contrary to all custom, she went to receive them at the door of her outer saloon.  It was, indeed, Cardinal Malipieri, who was always cold, with the Belgian Bishop of Halfagen, who was always hot.  They were accompanied by Father d’Aigrigny.  The Roman cardinal was a tall man, rather bony than thin, with a yellowish puffy countenance, haughty and full of craft; he squinted a good deal, and his black eyes were surrounded by a deep brown circle.  The Belgian Bishop was short, thick, and fat, with a prominent abdomen, an apoplectic complexion, a slow, deliberate look, and a soft, dimpled, delicate hand.

The company soon assembled in the great saloon.  The cardinal instantly crept close to the fire, whilst the bishop, beginning to sweat and blow, cast longing glances at the iced chocolate and coffee, which were to aid him in sustaining the oppressive heat of the artificial dog-day.  Father d’Aigrigny, approaching the princess, said to her in a low voice:  “Will you give orders for the admittance of Abbe Gabriel de Rennepont, when he arrives?”