The dinner resembled his breakfast.
At half-past eight in the evening he supped with his sister, Madame Magloire standing behind them and serving them at table.

Nothing could be more frugal than this repast.

If, however, the Bishop had one of his cures to supper, Madame Magloire took advantage of the opportunity to serve Monseigneur with some excellent fish from the lake, or with some fine game from the mountains.

Every cure furnished the pretext for a good meal: the Bishop did not interfere.

With that exception, his ordinary diet consisted only of vegetables boiled in water, and oil soup.