“Yes; but in a convent, also, you will retain the liberty to think, to read, to enjoy and love nature—and your requirements do not go beyond this. If, for instance, you were in love, and were dreaming of someone, this would be a great obstacle to convent life, and I should, in such a case, be the first to dissuade you from it. But I believe such is not the case?”
And Père Etienne gazed scrutinizingly into her face.
“Oh! you can set your heart at rest about that,” laughed Irene. “Men never played a great part in my life, and lately I have left off paying any attention to them at all. Besides, I really don’t think I have any temperament.”
“Perhaps you may be greatly mistaken!” The exclamation fell from the lips of Père Etienne accidentally. He was evidently provoked at his own careless words, and hastened to add that he had little acquaintance with Northern natures.
“But,” he continued, “if man’s love does not attract you, that is evidently a special grace of God, and it shows His particular mercy to you. Now is the time to flee to a convent, while yet no human influence can disturb your peace. A late love would be a great misfortune for you. To be happy in the married state, one must enter it in early youth, before the character of the girl is completely formed. Only on these conditions does the young wife submit to all the requirements of married life, and grow gradually accustomed to them. She understands the character of her husband, adjusts herself to it, and so finds her happiness. You, having passed all your youth on coldly polite terms with men, have estranged yourself too much from them. You know nothing about their characters, and neither they nor you could ever give happiness, one to the other. There would only be mutual misunderstanding and great suffering. Pray that this cup may be for ever removed from you.”
“Oh! I assure you, the question does not interest me in the least. Absence of faith troubles me infinitely more. How can I enter a convent, when I do not, perhaps, believe what is most important of all?”
Père Etienne smiled indulgently.
“Faith,” he answered, “like everything else in the world, is not given to us all at once, but only after long and patient effort. Carry out your monastic duties, go to church and pray at the given times, read sacred books, and, little by little, faith will penetrate into your heart.”
“But, allow me! How is this? Do you advise me to pray at first mechanically, almost without believing?” asked Irene incredulously. “But that would be hypocrisy, a mockery of religion!”