. .
The war was awakening religious sentiment in the men and increasing
the devotion of the women. The churches were filled. Dona Luisa was no
longer confining herself to those of her neighborhood. With the courage
induced by extraordinary events, she was traversing Paris afoot and
going from the Madeleine to Notre Dame, or to the Sacre Coeur on the
heights of Montmartre. Religious festivals were now thronged like
popular assemblies. The preachers were tribunes. Patriotic enthusiasm
interrupted many sermon with applause.
Each morning on opening the papers, before reading the war news, Senora
Desnoyers would hunt other notices. "Where was Father Amette going to
be to-day?" Then, under the arched vaultings of that temple, would
she unite her voice with the devout chorus imploring supernatural
intervention. "Lord, save France!" Patriotic religiosity was putting
Sainte Genevieve at the head of the favored ones, so from all these
fiestas, Dona Luisa, tremulous with faith, would return in expectation
of a miracle similar to that which the patron saint of Paris had worked
before the invading hordes of Attila.
Dona Elena was also visiting the churches, but those nearest the house.
Her brother-in-law saw her one afternoon entering Saint-Honoree d'Eylau.
The building was filled with the faithful, and on the altar was a sheaf
of flags--France and the allied nations.
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