“Is that young priest then here?” asked the princess, with extreme surprise.

“Since the day before yesterday.  We had him sent for to Paris, by his superiors.  You shall know all.  As for Father Rodin, let Mrs. Grivois admit him, as the other day, by the little door of the back stairs.”

“He will come to-day?”

“He has very important matters to communicate.  He desires that both the cardinal and the bishop should be present for they have been informed of everything at Rome by the Superior General, in their quality of associates.”

The princess rang the bell, gave the necessary orders, and, returning towards the cardinal, said to him, in a tone of the most earnest solicitude:  “Does your Eminence begin to feel a little warmer?  Would your Eminence like a bottle of hot water to your feet?  Shall we make a larger fire for your Eminence?”

At this proposition, the Belgian bishop, who was wiping the perspiration from his forehead, heaved a despairing sigh.

“A thousand thanks, princess,” answered the cardinal to her, in very good French, but with an intolerable Italian accent; “I am really overcome with so much kindness.”

“Will not your Lordship take some refreshment?” said the princess to the bishop, as she turned towards the sideboard.

“With your permission, madame, I will take a little iced coffee,” said the prelate, making a prudent circuit to approach the dishes without passing before the fire.

“And will not your Eminence try one of these little oyster-patties?  They are quite hot,” said the princess.

“I know them already, princess,” said the cardinal, with the air and look of an epicure; “they are delicious, and I cannot resist the temptation.”

“What wine shall I have the honor to offer your Eminence?” resumed the princess, graciously.

“A little claret, if you please, madame;” and as Father d’Aigrigny prepared to fill the cardinal’s glass, the princess disputed with him that pleasure.

“Your Eminence will doubtless approve what I have done,” said Father d’Aigrigny to the cardinal, whilst the latter was gravely despatching the oyster-patties, “in not summoning for to-day the Bishop of Mogador, the Archbishop of Nanterre, and our holy Mother Perpetue, the lady-superior of St. Mary Convent, the interview we are about to have with his Reverence Father Rodin and Abbe Gabriel being altogether private and confidential.”

“Our good father was perfectly right,” said the cardinal; “for, though the possible consequences of this Rennepont affair may interest the whole Church, there are some things that are as well kept secret.”

“Then I must seize this opportunity to thank your Eminence for having deigned to make an exception in favor of a very obscure and humble servant of the Church,” said the princess to the cardinal, with a very deep and respectful curtsey.

“It is only just and right, madame,” replied the cardinal, bowing as he replaced his empty glass upon the table; “we know how much the Church is indebted to you for the salutary direction you give to the religious institutions of which you are the patroness.”