“Go and see Loyer for that? Can you imagine me in the cage of that old gorilla? We must make some special arrangement, meet him at some friend’s house, or something of the sort.”
“But,” objected Philippe, “it’s very important. At any moment Loyer may sign the appointments now. There are several vacant sees.”
She reflected a moment, and, making a special effort to think clearly, said:
“You must be mistaken, mon petit,” said she. “It’s not Loyer who appoints the bishops. It’s the Pope, really it is, or the Nuncio. I can prove that, for the other day Emmanuel said, ‘The Nuncio ought to overcome the modesty of M. de Goulet, and offer him a bishopric.’ So you see.”
He tried to convince her to the contrary, taking the trouble to explain the reason why.
“Listen to me! The minister chooses the bishops, and the Nuncio confirms the minister’s choice. That is what is called the Concordat. You must say to Loyer: ‘I know of an intelligent liberal-minded priest, one that the Pope thinks of very highly’——”
“Yes, yes, I know!” She opened wide eyes of wonder. “It’s an extraordinary thing you are asking of me, mon petit!”
Her amazement came from the fact that she was religious, and had the greatest veneration for holy things. He was a little less religious than she, but perhaps a trifle more scrupulous, and in his innermost self he recognized that she was right, and that it was an extraordinary thing to ask of her. But he was so anxious for the matter to be concluded that he hastened to reassure her.
“I am not asking you to do anything forbidden by religion,” he protested.
In the meanwhile her first curiosity had returned.