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"
Ah
,
he
has
been
well
recommended
to
me
,
"
said
the
bishop
in
a
polished
tone
which
doubled
Julien
’
s
delight
,
"
But
I
beg
your
pardon
,
Monsieur
,
I
mistook
you
for
the
person
who
was
to
bring
me
my
mitre
.
It
was
badly
packed
at
Paris
.
The
silver
cloth
towards
the
top
has
been
terribly
spoiled
.
It
will
look
awful
,
"
ended
the
young
bishop
sadly
,
"
And
besides
,
I
am
being
kept
waiting
.
"
"
Monseigneur
,
I
will
go
and
fetch
the
mitre
if
your
grace
will
let
me
.
"
Julien
’
s
fine
eyes
did
their
work
.
"
Go
,
Monsieur
,
"
answered
the
bishop
,
with
charming
politeness
.
"
I
need
it
immediately
.
I
am
grieved
to
keep
the
gentlemen
of
the
chapter
waiting
.
"
When
Julien
reached
the
centre
of
the
hall
,
he
turned
round
towards
the
bishop
,
and
saw
that
he
had
again
commenced
giving
benedictions
.
"
What
can
it
be
?
"
Julien
asked
himself
.
"
No
doubt
it
is
a
necessary
ecclesiastical
preliminary
for
the
ceremony
which
is
to
take
place
.
"
When
he
reached
the
cell
in
which
the
valets
were
congregated
,
he
saw
the
mitre
in
their
hands
.
These
gentlemen
succumbed
in
spite
of
themselves
to
his
imperious
look
,
and
gave
him
Monseigneur
’
s
mitre
.
He
felt
proud
to
carry
it
.
As
he
crossed
the
hall
he
walked
slowly
.
He
held
it
with
reverence
.
He
found
the
bishop
seated
before
the
glass
,
but
from
time
to
time
,
his
right
hand
,
although
fatigued
,
still
gave
a
blessing
.
Julien
helped
him
to
adjust
his
mitre
.
The
bishop
shook
his
head
.
"
Ah
!
it
will
keep
on
,
"
he
said
to
Julien
with
an
air
of
satisfaction
.
"
Do
you
mind
going
a
little
way
off
?
"
Then
the
bishop
went
very
quickly
to
the
centre
of
the
room
,
then
approached
the
mirror
,
again
resumed
his
angry
manner
,
and
gravely
began
to
give
blessings
.
