Victor and the Chevalier were on this list, as were the vicomte and D'Herouville.

Usually these were enjoyable evenings.

Victor became famous as a raconteur, and the Chevalier lost some of his taciturnity in this friendly intercourse.
D'Herouville's conduct was irreproachable in every sense.
One day the Chevalier entered one of the school-rooms.

In his arms he held a small white child which had sprained its weak ankle while playing on the lumber pile outside the convent of the Ursulines.
Sister Benie was quick to note how tenderly he held the sobbing child.
"Give him to me, Monsieur," she said, her velvet eyes moist with pity.
The Chevalier placed the little boy in her arms, and he experienced a strange thrill as he noticed the manner in which she wrapt the boy to her heart.

How often Breton's mother, his nurse, had taken him to her breast that way! And he stood there marveling over that beautiful mystery which God had created, for the wonder of man, the woman and the child.
"I chanced to be passing and heard his cry," he said, diffidently.
"Playing the good Samaritan ?" asked a voice from the window.