s serious, but it interested me, and he
little knew that I paid such attention; but my joy was not unmixed
with fear when he took me on his knee and sang "Bluebeard" in his
deep voice.

About eight o'clock Papa would come to fetch me. I remember that I
used to look up at the stars with inexpressible delight. Orion's
belt fascinated me especially, for I saw in it a likeness to the
letter "T." "Look, Papa," I would cry, "my name is written in
Heaven!" Then, not wishing to see this dull earth any longer, I
asked him to lead me, and with my head thrown back, I gazed
unweariedly at the starry skies.

I could tell you much about our winter evenings at home. After a
game of draughts my sisters read aloud Dom Gueranger's _Liturgical
Year,_ and then a few pages of some other interesting and
instructive book. While this was going on I established myself on
Papa's knee, and when the reading was done he used to sing
soothing snatches of melody in his beautiful voice, as if to lull
me to sleep, and I would lay my head on his breast while he rocked
me gently to and fro.

Later on we went upstairs for night prayers, and there again my
place was beside my beloved Father, and I had only to look at him
to know how the Saints pray. Pauline put me to bed, and I
invariably asked her: "Have I been good to-day? Is God pleased
with me? Will the Angels watch over me?" The answer was always
"Yes," otherwise I should have spent the whole night in tears.
After these questions my sisters kissed me, and little Therese was
left alone in the dark.

I look on it as a real grace that from childhood I was taught to
overcome my fears. Sometimes in the evening Pauline would send me
to fetch something from a distant room; she would take no refusal,
and she was quite right, for otherwise I should have become very
nervous, whereas now it is difficult to frighten me. I wonder
sometimes how my little Mother was able to bring me up with so
much tenderness, and yet without spoiling me, for she did not pass
over the least fault. It is true she never scolded me without
cause, and I knew well she would never change her mind when once a
thing was decided upon.

To this dearly loved sister I confided my most intimate thoughts;
she cleared up all my doubts. One day I expressed surprise that
God does not give an equal amount of glory to all the elect in
Heaven--I was afraid that they would not all be quite happy. She
sent me to fetch Papa's big tumbler, and put