'Eleanor--where are you off to ?' 'Just to my house of Simmon,' said that lady, smiling.

She was standing on the eastern balcony, buttoning a dainty grey glove, while Manisty a few paces from her was lounging in a deck-chair, with the English newspapers.
'What ?--to mass?
I protest.

Look at the lake--look at the sky--look at that patch of broom on the lake side.

Come and walk there before _dejeuner_--and make a round home by Aricia.' Mrs.Burgoyne shook her head.
'No--I like my little idolatries,' she said, with decision.

It was Sunday morning.