“I don’t know what you ladies may have found at European firesides,” I said, “but there can be very little doubt what you have left there.”
Mrs. Church got up, to acknowledge my compliment. “We have spent some charming hours. And that reminds me that we have just now such an occasion in prospect. We are to call upon some Genevese friends—the family of the Pasteur Galopin. They are to go with us to the old library at the Hôtel de Ville, where there are some very interesting documents of the period of the Reformation; we are promised a glimpse of some manuscripts of poor Servetus, the antagonist and victim, you know, of Calvin. Here, of course, one can only speak of Calvin under one’s breath, but some day, when we are more private,” and Mrs. Church looked round the room, “I will give you my view of him. I think it has a touch of originality. Aurora is familiar with, are you not, my daughter, familiar with my view of Calvin?”
“Yes, mamma,” said Aurora, with docility, while the two ladies went to prepare for their visit to the Pasteur Galopin.
CHAPTER VI.
“She has demanded a new lamp; I told you she would!” This communication was made me by Madame Beaurepas a couple of days later. “And she has asked for a new tapis de lit, and she has requested me to provide Célestine with a pair of light shoes. I told her that, as a general thing, cooks are not shod with satin. That poor Célestine!”
“Mrs. Church may be exacting,” I said, “but she is a clever little woman.”
“A lady who pays but five francs and a half shouldn’t be too clever. C’est déplacé. I don’t like the type.”
“What type do you call Mrs. Church’s?”
“Mon Dieu,” said Madame Beaurepas, “c’est une de ces mamans comme vous en avez, qui promènent leur fille.”
“She is trying to marry her daughter? I don’t think she’s of that sort.”