The Abbe Mauduit lifted two of the children on his knees, passing his long arms clad in black round their necks, and kissing them tenderly on the forehead as he drew their heads toward him as a father might.
Then he set them down on the ground, and the little beings went off, the boy ahead, and the girls following.
“You are fond of children, M. le Cure,” said the comtesse.
“Very fond, madame.”
The old woman raised her bright eyes toward the priest.
“And—has your solitude never weighed too heavily on you?”
“Yes, sometimes.”
He became silent, hesitated, and then added: “But I was never made for ordinary life.”
“What do you know about it?”
“Oh! I know very well. I was made to be a priest; I followed my vocation.”