cluded Mme. de la Vaudraye, in a patronizing little way. "That is only so much talk and gossip, which I shall know how to put down, if you will help me. It only wants a small sacrifice. For instance, I shall be making the collection at High Mass, on Sunday: promise me to come. It's a promise, isn't it?" she said, as she went away.
Gilberte would much rather have stayed quietly at home; but, as she had been told that that was impossible, she gave up the idea:
"It seems to hurt people," she said to herself.
And, on the Sunday morning, when the bells rang for mass, she left the Logis for the first time.
She felt, in the crowded high-street, as though she were awaking from a dream of peace and silence, so intense was her dislike of bustle and noise. There were people at the windows, people at the shop-doors, people in the church-porch; and all those people
