Then a canon; then a prelate! Who knew if perhaps when she was no longer living, other women might not admire him when preceded by a cross of gold, trailing the red state robe of a cardinal-archbishop, and surrounded by a robed staff--envying the mother who had given birth to this ecclesiastical magnate!...
In order to guide the inclinations of her son she had installed a chapel in one of the empty rooms of the great old house.

Ulysses' school companions on free afternoons would hasten thither, doubly attracted by the enchantment, of "playing priest" and by the generous refreshment that Dona Cristina used to prepare for all the parish clergy.
This solemnity would begin with the furious pealing of some bells hanging over the parlor door, causing the notary's clients, seated in the vestibule waiting for the papers that the clerks were just scribbling off at full speed, to raise their heads in astonishment.

The metallic uproar rocked the edifice whose corners had seemed so full of silence, and even disturbed the calm of the street through which a carriage only occasionally passed.
While some of his chums were lighting the candles on the shrines and unfolding the sacred altar cloths of beautiful lace work made by Dona Cristina, the son and his more intimate friends were arraying themselves before the faithful, covering themselves with surplices and gold-worked vestments and putting wonderful caps on their heads.

The mother, who was peeping from behind one of the doors, had to make a great effort not to rush in and devour Ulysses with kisses.

With what grace he was imitating the mannerisms and genuflections of the chief priest!...
Up to this point all went perfectly.