een the double lines of chairs, open Madame Aubain's pew, sit
down and look around.

Girls and boys, the former on the right, the latter on the left-hand
side of the church, filled the stalls of the choir; the priest stood
beside the reading-desk; on one stained window of the side-aisle the
Holy Ghost hovered over the Virgin; on another one, Mary knelt before
the Child Jesus, and behind the alter, a wooden group represented Saint
Michael felling the dragon.

The priest first read a condensed lesson of sacred history. Felicite
evoked Paradise, the Flood, the Tower of Babel, the blazing cities,
the dying nations, the shattered idols; and out of this she developed a
great respect for the Almighty and a great fear of His wrath. Then, when
she had listened to the Passion, she wept. Why had they crucified Him
who loved little children, nourished the people, made the blind see, and
who, out of humility, had wished to be born among the poor, in a stable?
The sowings, the harvests, the wine-presses, all those familiar things
which the Scriptures mention, formed a part of her life; the word of God
sanctified them; and she loved the lambs with increased tenderness for
the sake of the Lamb, and the doves because of the Holy Ghost.

She found it hard, however, to think of the latter as a person, for was
it not a bird, a flame, and sometimes only a breath? Perhaps it is its
light that at night hovers over swamps, its breath that propels the
clouds, its voice that renders church-bells harmonious. And Felicite
worshipped devoutly, while enjoying the coolness and the stillness of
the church.

As for the dogma, she could not understand it and did not even try. The
priest discoursed, the children recited, and she went to sleep, only to
awaken with a start when they were leaving the church and their wooden
shoes clattered on the stone pavement.

In this way, she learned her catechism, her religious education having
been neglected in her youth; and thenceforth she imitated all Virginia's
religious practices, fasted when she did, and went to confession with
her. At the Corpus-Christi Day they both decorated an altar.

She worried in advance over Virginia's first communion. She fussed about
the shoes, the rosary, the book and the gloves. With what nervousness
she helped the mother dress the child!

During the entire ceremony, she felt anguished. Monsieur Bourais hid
part of the choir from view, but directly in front of her, the flock