"Master, what a pity--you must leave us."
He made no answer.
When the second summons sounded, the same voice continued:
"There's no help for it; for us poor sinners, it's no matter! But you, master, you cannot miss the mass!"
He put his hand to his head and considered.
"Bah!" he cried boldly, "I'll send my children."
Let me give another trait in illustration of the nature which from time to time pierced through and rent the flimsy fabric of his opinions. This anecdote is a political one.
Despite the precedent of an ultra democratic grandfather, and all his plebeian tendencies as a philanthropist and a Christian, his Catholic friends had inclined him toward monarchical ideas--although he never actually sided with the militant portion of the party.
On one occasion, it happened that the two wings of this politico-religious fusion disagreed. As at Nanterre, Delsarte acted independently, and on this occasion politics were the victim. It fell out as follows:
A claimant of the throne of France, still young, finding himself in the Eternal City, had not, to all appearance, fulfilled his duties to the Vatican promptly.