“In that case,” said Gustave, “she is to ask him to make Guitrel a bishop.”
“Yes.”
“Bishop of where did you say?”
“Bishop of Tourcoing,” repeated young Bonmont. “I’d better write it down for you.”
Picking up from a table before him the trade card of the builder of the “Reine des Pygmées,” he wrote upon it with his little gold pencil, “Make Guitrel Bishop of Tourcoing.”
Gustave took the card, and the idea which at first had appeared to him so strange and weird now seemed a simple and natural one. His mind had grown accustomed to it, and as he put the card in his pocket he repeated in the glibbest way:
“Make Guitrel Bishop of Tourcoing. Right you are! You can rely on me.”
In this manner the words of Madame Dellion were fulfilled, who speaking of her son one day had said, “Gustave does not learn quickly, but he remembers what he has learned, and that is perhaps best.”
“You know,” said Ernest seriously, “I can answer for Guitrel making a good bishop.”
“So much the better,” replied Gustave, “because——” And he did not finish his sentence.