at Theresa is absolutely sure
to act conscientiously.'

'Some people follow their conscience--some drive it.'

'Now, do let me explain it,' entreated Emma, and talking eagerly and
rather mistily, she told in many more words than were needful how
Theresa had serious doubts as to what she termed Anglicanism, reckoning
against it every laxity in doctrine or in discipline that came to her
knowledge, and admiring everything in other branches of the Church.
Emma, taking all for granted that Theresa said, was strongly of the same
mind, and while both made high professions of attachment to their own
communion, they were in a course of dwelling on all the allurements held
out in other quarters. By some astonishing train of reasoning, frequent
in persons in a state of excitement and self-deception, they had
persuaded themselves that Mark Gardner's return to his evil courses
had been for want of a monastery to receive him; and their tendency
to romance about conventual institutions had been exaggerated by the
present state of Emma's spirits, which gave her a desire to retire from
the world, as well as a distaste to the projects in which she had
lately given her false lover but too large a share. 'Peace dwells in the
cloister,' she sighed.

'You have the essentials of such a life in your power,' said Theodora.

'Not the fixed rule--the obedience.'

'Oh! Emma! your mother!'

'I want discipline--Church discipline as in primitive times,' said Emma,
impatiently.

'The most primitive discipline of all is, "honour thy father and
mother,"' returned Theodora.

There was a silence. Theodora resumed--'I know how one would rather do
anything than what is required. Violet taught me then that we must not
choose our cross.'

Another space, then Emma said, 'And you call it a subterfuge?'

'Can you honestly call it otherwise? Don't bewilder us with
explanations, but simply say what you would have thought of it six years
ago.'

For Emma not to send forth a vapour of words was impossible, but they
did not satisfy even herself. Those short terse sentences of Theodora's
told upon her, and at last she did not deny that she should not have
thought it right if Theresa had not prompted it.

'Is she more likely to be right, or is the Catechism?'

'The Catechism?'

'To be TRUE and just in all my dealings.'

'She did not think it wrong.'

'No, of course not, but if it is wrong, and she does not think it so,
does that make her a safe gui