ike to go?"

"No, oh no, no!"

"Why not?"

"Isa, I could never, _never_ do some of those things you say they
require--bow to images or pictures, or kneel before them, or join in
prayers or hymns to the Virgin."

"I don't know how you could be so wicked as to refuse. She is the queen
of Heaven and mother of God."

"Isa!" and Violet looked inexpressibly shocked.

"You can't deny it. Wasn't Jesus God?"

"Yes; he is God. 'In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with
God, and the Word was God.' 'And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among
us.'"

"Ah! and was not the Virgin Mary his mother?'"

Vi looked perplexed for a moment, then brightening, "Ah, I know now,'" she
said, "Jesus was God and man both.'"

"Well?"

"And--mamma told me--Mary was the mother of his human nature only, and it
is blasphemous to call her the mother of God; and to do her homage is
idolatry."

"So I thought before I went to the convent," said Isadore, "but the
sisters convinced me of my error. Vi, I should like to show you something.
Can you keep a secret?"

"I have never had a secret from mamma; I do not wish to have any."

"But you can't tell her everything now while she's away, and this concerns
no one but myself. I know I can trust to your honor," and taking Vi's
hand, she opened a door and drew her into a large closet, lighted by a
small circular window quite high up in the wall. The place was fitted up
as an oratory, with a picture of the Virgin and child, and a crucifix,
standing on a little table with a prayer-book and rosary beside it.

Vi had never seen such things, but she had heard of them and knew what
they signified. Glancing from the picture to the crucifix, she started
back in horror, and without a word hastily retreated to the dressing-room,
where she dropped into a chair, pale, trembling and distressed.

"Isadore, Isadore!" she cried, clasping her hands, and lifting her
troubled eyes to her cousin's face, "have you--have you become a papist?"

"I am a member of the one true church," returned her cousin coldly. "How
bigoted you are, Violet. I could not have believed it of so sweet and
gentle a young thing as you. I trust you will not consider it your duty to
betray me to mamma?"

"Betray you? can you think I would? So Aunt Louise does not know? Oh, Isa,
can you think it right to hide it from her--your own mother?"

"Yes; because I was directed to do so by my father confessor, and because
my motive is a