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Page 41
"Thinking of the chateau de Rossillon and its inmates. It is very long
since we have had news of them. I am much troubled about the dear
friends. It would be like rain on the parched ground, could I once
more hear my uncle's voice. The good, kind old man!"
"Never fear, _ma m�re_. You shall hear it. I have a plan that will
soon take us all to Picardy. You smile, but do I not accomplish my
little schemes? Do not ask me, please, how I shall do it. The
expedition is not wholly matured".
"Not wholly matured, indeed!" said Mrs. Dubois, with an incredulous
smile.
"Nevertheless, it will take place, _ma m�re_. But not this week. In
the mean time, I am going to invite the gentlemen, who are doubtless
moping in Mr. Brown's room, as we are here, to come in and examine
that curiously illuminated missal of yours. How agreeable Mr. Brown
is, now that he is getting well! Don't you think so? And Mr. Norton is
as good and radiant as a seraph! No doubt, they are pining with
homesickness, just as you are, and will be glad of our society".
Ad�le left the room, and soon returned, accompanied by the two
individuals, of whom she had gone in search.
She placed Mr. Brown, who looked quite superb in his brilliantly
flowered dressing-gown, in a corner of a sofa. Having examined the
missal with interest, for a time, he handed it to Mr. Norton, and was
soon engaged in an animated conversation with Mrs. Dubois, respecting
various works of ancient art, they had both seen in Europe.
Ad�le watched with pleasure the light kindling in her mother's eyes,
as she went back, in memory and thought, to other days.
Mr. Norton gazed at his friend Brown, transfigured suddenly from the
despairing invalid, who had lost all interest in life, to the
animated being before him, with traces indeed of languor and disease
upon his person, but glowing now with life, thought, and emotion. "A
precious jewel gathered for the crown of Him, who sits on the throne
above", he whispered to himself.
Felicitating himself with this thought, he divided his attention
between the conversation of Mrs. Dubois and Mr. Brown, and the marvels
of skill, labor, and beauty traced by the old monk upon the pages
before him.
"I must say, Miss Ad�le, that these lines and colors are put on most
ingeniously. But I cannot help thinking those ancient men might have
been better employed in tracing the characters of divine truth upon
the hearts of their fellow-beings".
"True", said Ad�le, "had they been free to do it. But they were shut
up from the world and could not. Illuminating missals was far better
than to pass their lives in perfect idleness and inanition".
"Don't you think, my dear", said the missionary, who had wisely never
before questioned any member of the family on the points of religious
faith, "that the cloister life was a strange one to live, for men who
professed to have the love of God in their hearts, with a whole world
lying in sin around them, for a field to labor in?"
"Yes, I do, and I think too many other things are wrong about the
Roman Church, but it pains my mother to hear me speak of them", said
Ad�le, in a low tone, glancing at her mother.
"Is it so?" exclaimed the good man. His face lighted up with a secret
satisfaction. But he fixed his eyes upon the book and was silent.
Just then, some one knocked on the parlor door. Ad�le opened it and
beheld Mrs. McNab,--her broad figure adorned with the brilliant chintz
dress and yellow bandanna handkerchief, filling up the entire doorway,
and her face surrounded by the wide, full frill, its usual framework,
expressing a curious mixture of shyness and audacity.
It was her first call at the house, since Ad�le's summary process of
ejection had been served upon her, and it was not until that young
lady had welcomed her cordially and invited her to come in, that she
ventured beyond the threshold. She then came forward, made a low
courtesy, and seating herself near the door, remarked that Bess was
not below, and hearing voices in the picture parlor, wishing to hear
from the patient, she had ventured up.
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