something that still
confusedly connected itself with the great church, with the
violinist's playing, with the pictures and the music of old
days, and which, for the present, in her new life, found its
clearest expression, not in the nuns' teaching, for, kind and
affectionate as it in truth was, it was marred from the first
to Madelon by the inevitable exclamation of wonder and horror
that she should not know all about it already--not in the
questions and answers in her catechism, nor in the religious
dogmas and formulas which she accepted, but could hardly
appreciate--not in all these, but in the little chapel with its
gaudy altars, and twinkling lights, its services, and music,
and incense. Indeed, apart from all higher considerations, the
pictures, the colouring, the singing, all were the happiest
relief to the child, who, used to perpetual change and
brightness, wearied indescribably of the dull, colourless
life, the uniform dress, the want of all artistic beauty in
the convent. Her greatest reward when she had been good was to
be allowed to join in the singing in the chapel--her greatest
punishment, to be banished from the evening services.

No need, however, to pursue this part of little Madelon's
history further. With the nuns' instruction, and the learning
of her catechism, vanished all that had distinguished her, in
this respect, from other children of her years and station.
She had learnt most of what can be learnt by such teaching,
and for her, as for others, there remained the verifying and
realization of these lessons, according to her capacity and
experience. Only, one may somehow feel sure, that to this
passionate, wilful little nature, religion would hardly
present itself as one simple sublime truth, high, pure, and
serene as the over-arching, all-embracing heaven, through
which the sun shines down on the clashing creeds of men; but
rather as a complex, many-sided problem, too often at variance
with her scheme of life, to be felt after through the medium
of conflicting emotions, to be worked out at last through what
doubts, questionings, with what perplexities, strivings,
yearnings, cries for light--along this in nowise singular path,
no need to follow our little Madelon.

For the rest, she imbibed readily enough at this time many of
the particular views of religious subjects affected by the
nuns, at first, indeed, not without a certain incredulity that
such things could be, when her father had ne