Berthe gave her a sly look and answered: ‘I burn a candle to my patron saint, Mademoiselle.’
‘And is the candle efficacious to the granting of your prayers?’
‘As to their granting, it hangs upon the humour of Saint Berthe.’
‘Do you know of any charm that will so work upon her as to change her humour from a splenetic to a kindly one?’
‘There is but two charms, Mademoiselle, that will surely work upon the humours of the great—be they in Paradise or on the earth—they be flattery and presents. Albeit, I am a good Catholic, I hold my own opinions on certain matters, and I cannot doubt that once the Saints are safe in Paradise they turn exceeding grasping, crafty, and malicious. Like financiers, they are glutted on the farthings of the poor—a pack of Montaurons!’
‘And in what manner does one flatter them?’
‘Why, by novenas and candles and prostrating oneself before their images. As for me, except I have a prayer I strangely desire should be granted, I do never affect to kneel at Mass, I do but bend forward in my seat. In Lorraine we hold all this bowing and scraping as naught but Spanish tomfoolery! You’d seek long before you found one of us putting ourselves to any discomfort for the Saints, except it did profit us to do so!’ and for at least a minute she chuckled and winked.
Well, here was a strange confirmation of her theory—a wicked hierarchy could only culminate in a wicked god. Yes, but such ignoble Saints would surely not be incorruptible. Might not timely bribes change their malicious designs? Also, it was just possible that Nausicaa and Sappho had neglected the rites and sacrifices without which no compact is valid between a god and a mortal. But could she not learn from their sad example? Her story was still in the making, by timely rites she might bring it to a happy issue.
With a sudden flash of illumination she felt she had discovered the secret of her failure. It was due to her neglect of her own patron saint, Saint Magdalene, who was as well the patron saint of Madeleine de Scudéry, a mystic link between their two souls, without which they could never be united.
Forget not your great patron saint in your devotions. It was her particular virtue that she greatly loved, had been the words of Mère Agnès. She greatly loved—why, it was all as clear as day; was she not the holy courtesan, and as such had she not taken over the functions of the pagan Venus, she who had appeared to Sappho? As the Christian Venus, charm and beauty and wit and l’air galant, and all the qualities that inspire Admiration must be in her gift, and Madeleine had neglected her! It was little wonder she had failed. Why, at the very beginning of her campaign against amour-propre she should have invoked her aid—‘the saint who so greatly loved.’