“Oh, father!” cried the lady, in admiration; “it is a miraculous conversion.  Father d’Aigrigny told me how you had to contend against the influence of Abbe Gabriel.”

“The Abbe Gabriel,” replied Rodin, “has been punished for meddling with what did not concern him.  I have procured his suspension, and he has been deprived of his curacy.  I hear that he now goes about the cholera hospitals to administer Christian consolation; we cannot oppose that—­but this universal comforter is of the true heretical stamp.”

“He is a dangerous character, no doubt,” answered the princess, “for he has considerable influence over other men.  It must have needed all your admirable and irresistible eloquence to combat the detestable counsels of this Abbe Gabriel, who had taken it into his head to persuade M. Hardy to return to the life of the world.  Really, father, you are a second St. Chrysostom.”

“Tut, tut, madame!” said Rodin, abruptly, for he was very little sensible to flattery; “keep that for others.”

“I tell you that you’re a second St. Chrysostom father,” repeated the princess with enthusiasm; “like him, you deserve the name of Golden Mouth.”

“Stuff, madame!” said Rodin, brutally, shrugging his shoulders; “my lips are too pale, my teeth too black, for a mouth of gold.  You must be only joking.”

“But, father—­”

“No, madame, you will not catch old birds with chaff,” replied Rodin, harshly.  “I hate compliments, and I never pay them.”

“Your modesty must pardon me, father,” said the princess, humbly; “I could not resist the desire to express to you my admiration, for, as you almost predicted, or at least foresaw, two members of the Rennepont family, have, within the last few months, resigned all claim to the inheritance.”

Rodin looked at Madame de Saint-Dizier with a softened and approving air, as he heard her thus describe the position of the two defunct claimants.  For, in Rodin’s view of the case, M. Hardy, in consequence of his donation and his suicidal asceticism, belonged no longer to this world.

The lady continued:  “One of these men, a wretched artisan, has been led to his ruin by the exaggeration of his vices.  You have brought the other into the path of salvation, by carrying out his loving and tender qualities.  Honor, then to your foresight, father! for you said that you would make use of the passions to attain your end.”

“Do not boast too soon,” said Rodin, impatiently.  “Have you forgotten your niece, and the Hindoo, and the daughters of Marshal Simon?  Have they also made a Christian end, or resigned their claim to share in this inheritance?”

“No, doubtless.”

“Hence, you see, madame, we should not lose time in congratulating ourselves on the past, but make ready for the future.  The great day approaches.  The first of June is not far off.  Heaven grant we may not see the four surviving members of the family continue to live impenitent up to that period, and so take possession of this enormous property—­the source of perdition in their hands—­but productive of the glory of the Church in the hands of our Company!”