"
Thereupon he offered his hand to his brother ecclesiastic, who was
looking and smiling at him in a kindly way. The Abbe Judaine was the
parish priest of Saligny, a little village in the department of the Oise.
Tall and sturdy, he had a broad pink face, around which clustered a mass
of white, curly hair, and it could be divined by his appearance that he
was a worthy man whom neither the flesh nor the spirit had ever
tormented. He believed indeed firmly and absolutely, with a tranquil
godliness, never having known a struggle, endowed as he was with the
ready faith of a child who is unacquainted with human passions. And ever
since the Virgin at Lourdes had cured him of a disease of the eyes, by a
famous miracle which folks still talked about, his belief had become yet
more absolute and tender, as though impregnated with divine gratitude.
"I am pleased that you are with us, my friend," he gently said; "for
there is much in these pilgrimages for young priests to profit by. I am
told that some of them at times experience a feeling of rebellion. Well,
you will see all these poor people praying,--it is a sight which will
make you weep. How can one do otherwise than place oneself in God's
hands, on seeing so much suffering cured or consoled?"
The old priest himself was accompanying a patient; and he pointed to a
first-class compartment, at the door of which hung a placard bearing the
inscription: "M. l'Abbe Judaine, Reserved." Then lowering his voice, he
said: "It is Madame Dieulafay, you know, the great banker's wife.
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