“Fear not, mamma: I will not forget. But if he will take my advice, what he will be is Bishop of Liege. The Bishop of Liege is a beautiful bishop. What! do you not remember him, mamma, that day we were at Liege? he was braver than grandpapa himself. He had on a crown, a high one, and it was cut in the middle, and it was full of oh! such beautiful jewels; and his gown stiff with gold; and his mantle, too; and it had a broad border, all pictures; but, above all, his gloves; you have no such gloves, mamma. They were embroidered and covered with jewels, and scented with such lovely scent; I smelt them all the time he was giving me his blessing on my head with them. Dear old man! I dare say he will die soon most old people do and then, sir, you Can be bishop you know, and wear—
“Gently, Marie, gently: bishoprics are for old gentlemen; and this is a young gentleman.”
“Mamma! he is not so very young.
“Not compared with you, Marie, eh?”
“He is a good birth dear mamma; and I am sure he is good enough for a bishop.
“Alas! mademoiselle, you are mistaken”
“I know not that, Monsieur Gerard; but I am a little puzzled to know on what grounds mademoiselle there pronounces your character so boldly.”
“Alas! mamma,” said the Princess, “you have not looked at his face, then;” and she raised her eyebrows at her mother's simplicity.
“I beg your pardon,” said the Countess, “I have. Well, sir, if I cannot go quite so fast as my daughter, attribute it to my age, not to a want of interest in your welfare. A benefice will do to begin your Career with; and I must take care it is not too far from—what call you the place?”
“Tergou, madam