All these were the titles of Felicien's grandfather, and yet she had come, so simple, with her working-dress and her fingers worn by the needle, in hopes of marrying the grandson of this dead dignitary! There was a slight sound, scarcely a rustling, on the flagstones.

She turned and saw Monseigneur, and remained motionless at this silent approach without the pomp and surroundings she had vaguely expected.
He entered into the chapel, tall, erect, and noble-looking, dressed in purple, with his pale face, his rather large nose, and his superb eyes, which still seemed youthful in their expression.

At first he did not notice her against the black gate.

Then, as he was about to kneel down, he saw her before him at his feet.
With trembling limbs, overcome by respect and fear, Angelique had fallen upon her knees.

He seemed to her at this moment like the Eternal Father, terrible in aspect and absolute master of her destiny.