We leave the application to the public, pointing out to them at the same time that to denounce the civil and ecclesiastical architecture handed down to them by the founders of civic liberty in Flanders and Germany, and the founders of Christian morality in France and England, Spain and Lombardy, would be to lay themselves open to the reproach of another witty convert, who said to his father, when the latter was lamenting his son’s change of faith: “Take care, or you will make out that three hundred years ago our ancestors were nobodies.” The reply silenced the proud bearer of a proud—and Catholic—name.
THE LAST DAYS BEFORE THE SIEGE.
PART I.
AWAKENING.
Berthe was holding a council about bonnets with her maid and Mme. Augustine when I went in. The complexion of the sky, it would seem, was a grave complication of the question at issue; it was of a dull leaden color, for, though the heat was intense, the sun was not shining outright, but sulking under a heavy veil of cloud that looked as if it might explode in a thunder-storm before the day was over.
“What a blunderer you are, Antoinette!” exclaimed Berthe impatiently. “The idea of putting me into pearl-color under a sky like that! Where are your eyes?”
Antoinette looked out of the window, saw the folly of her conduct, and proposed a pink bonnet to relieve the unbecoming sky and the gray costume. The amendment was approved of; so she left the room to fetch the bonnet.
“She is a good creature, Antoinette; but she is wonderfully absent-minded,” remarked Berthe.
Mme. Augustine sighed, smiled, and shrugged her shoulders.
“What will you, Madame la Comtesse? Every one is not born an artist.”