THE CHURCH AT NEMOURS.
The master of Nemours could see his uncle giving his arm to the young girl called Ursule, each holding a prayer-book and going into the church. The old man removed his hat in the porch, and his head, entirely white, like a snow-capped pinnacle, shone in the soft shadows of the façade.
"Well, Minoret, what do you say to your uncle's conversion?" cried the tax-collector of Nemours.
