began to cough and the season was over, she
decided to return to Pont-
l'Eveque.
Monsieur Bourais assisted her in the choice of a college. The one at
Caen was considered the best. So Paul was sent away and
bravely said
good-bye to them all, for he was glad to go to live in a house where
he would have boy companions.
Madame Aubain resigned herself to the
separation from her son because
it was unavoidable. Virginia brooded less and less over it. Felicite
regretted the noise he made, but soon a new
occupation diverted her
mind;
beginning from Christmas, she accompanied the little girl to her
catechism lesson every day.
CHAPTER III
After she had made a
curtsey at the
threshold, she would walk up the
aisle between 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
of maidens, wearing white wreaths over their lowered veils, formed a
snow-white field, and she recognised her
darling by the slenderness of
her neck and her
devout attitude. The bell tinkled. All the heads bent
and there was a silence. Then, at the peals of the organ the singers
and the worshippers struck up the Agnes Dei; the boys' procession
began; behind them came the girls. With clasped hands, they
advancedstep by step to the lighted altar, knelt at the first step, received
one by one the Host, and returned to their seats in the same order.
When Virginia's turn came, Felicite leaned forward to watch her, and
through that
imagination which springs from true
affection, she at
once became the child, whose face and dress became hers, whose heart
beat in her bosom, and when Virginia opened her mouth and closed her
lids, she did
likewise and came very near fainting.
The following day, she presented herself early at the church so as to
receive
communion from the cure. She took it with the proper feeling,
but did not experience the same delight as on the
previous day.
Madame Aubain wished to make an
accomplished girl of her daughter; and
as Guyot could not teach English or music, she
decided to send her to