"I am not an old woman—" Celia was beginning, but Lady Ingram interrupted her.
"Precisely, ma belle. The very reason why it is so absurd of you to make a recluse of yourself, as I see you would like to do,—unless, indeed, you had a vocation. But, so far as I know, Protestants never have such things."
"What things, Madam?"
"Vocations, my dear—calls to the religious life."
"Madam!" exclaimed Celia, very much astonished, "ought we not all to lead religious lives?"
"You are so absurd!" laughed Lady Ingram. "You absolutely do not understand what is meant by the religious life. My dear child (for a child you are indeed), the life which we all lead is the secular: we eat, drink, talk, sleep, dance, game and marry. These are the seculars who do these things. The religious are those who, having a call from Heaven, consecrate themselves entirely to God, and deny themselves all pleasures whatever, and so much of necessaries as is consistent with the preservation of life. Their mortification is accepted by Heaven, when extreme, not only for their own sins, but for the sins of any secular friend to whom they may desire to apply the merit of it. Now do you understand? Ma foi! what a grave, saint-like conversation you provoke!"
"Not at all, Madam."
"Let me hear your views then."
Had Celia been left free to choose, Lady Ingram was about the last person in her little world to whom she would have wished to give a reason for the hope that was in her. But she felt that there was no choice, and she must make the effort, though not in her own strength. She lifted up her heart to God for wisdom, and then spoke with a quiet decision which surprised her step-mother.
"Madam, I believe all persons to be religious who love God, and whom God loves. Because God loved us, He gave His Son to die for us, that we who believe in Him might have eternal life. It is He who saves us, not we who make our own salvation; and it is because we love God that we wish to serve Him."