ONE day, at noon, shortly before the time for which Gaston had announced his return, a note was brought to Francie from Mme. de Brécourt. It caused her some agitation, though it contained a clause intended to guard her against vain fears. “Please come to me the moment you have received this—I have sent the carriage. I will explain when you get here what I want to see you about. Nothing has happened to Gaston. We are all here.” The coupé from the Place Beauvau was waiting at the door of the hotel and the girl had but a hurried conference with her father and sister; if conference it could be called in which vagueness on one side encountered blankness on the other. “It's for something bad—something bad,” Francie said, while she tied her bonnet; though she was unable to think what it could be. Delia, who looked a good deal scared, offered to accompany her; upon which Mr. Dosson made the first remark of a practical character in which he had indulged in relation to his daughter's alliance.

“No you won’t—no you won’t, my dear. They may whistle for Francie, but let them see that they can't whistle for all of us.” It was the first sign he had given of being jealous of the dignity of the Dossons. That question had never troubled him.

“I know what it is,” said Delia, while she arranged her sister's garments. “They want to talk about religion. They have got the priests; there's some bishop, or perhaps some cardinal. They want to baptise you.”

“You’d better take a waterproof!” Francie's father called after her as she flitted away.

She wondered, rolling toward the Place Beauvau, what they were all there for; that announcement balanced against the reassurance conveyed in the phrase about Gaston. She liked them individually but in their collective form they made her uneasy. In their family parties there was always something of the tribunal. Mme. de Brécourt came out to meet her in the vestibule, drawing her quickly into a small room (not the salon—Francie knew it as her hostess's “own room,” a lovely boudoir), in which, considerably to the girl's relief, the rest of the family were not assembled.