ecurrence; though none such had as yet had part in the
economy of her small world; and priests, and nuns, and monks
became classed, without difficulty, in her mind, with doctors
and soldiers, and the mass of people generally, who made money
in a different way from her father, with whom, therefore, she
seldom came into personal contact, and with whom she had
little to do--money making being still her one idea of the aim
and business of life.

The first time, however, that she ever entered a church, when
she was little more than nine years old, was an experience in
her life, and this was the occasion of it. It was in a French
provincial town, where M. Linders had stopped for a day on
business--only for one day, but that Madelon was to spend for
the most part alone; for her father, occupied with his
affairs, was obliged to go out very early, and leave her to
her own devices; and very dull she found them, after the first
hour or two. She was a child of many resources, it is true,
but these will come to an end when a little girl of nine years
old, with books and dolls all packed up, has to amuse herself
for ever so many hours in a dull country hotel, an hotel, too,
which was quite strange to her, and where she could not,
therefore, fall back upon the society and conversation of a
friendly landlady. Madelon wandered upstairs and downstairs,
looked out of all the windows she could get at, and at last
stood leaning against the hall-door, which opened on to the
front courtyard. It was very quiet and very dull, nothing
moving anywhere; no one crossed the square, sunny space, paved
with little stones, and adorned with the usual round-topped
trees, in green boxes. Inside the house there was an
occasional clatter of plates and dishes, or the resonant nasal
cry of "Auguste," or "Henri," from one or other of the
servants, but that was all. Madelon found it too tiresome; the
_porte-cochere_ stood half open, she crossed the courtyard and
peeped out. She saw a quiet, sunny street, with not much more
life or movement than there was within, but still a little
better. Over the high walls surrounding the houses opposite
green trees were waving; at one end of the street there was
the gleam of a river, a bridge, and a row of poplars; the
other end she could not see, for the street made a bend, and a
fountain with dribbling water filled up the angle. Presently a
little boy in a blue blouse, and a little girl with a tight
round white cap, c