The Chevalier's daughter

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"You are very bigoted," said I, in a superior tone. "Don't you suppose there are as good Christians among Papists as you call them, as there are among Protestants? Don't you believe a Papist can be saved?"

"As to that," answered Mercer readily, "that there are those among them that live up to their lights, such as they are, I don't deny, but I don't say nor believe that they are as good Christians as they would be if their lights were brighter. As to their being saved, that is no business of mine. I know that the Scriptures are very hard upon idolaters, especially those idolaters who might know better."

"But the Papists do not worship images," I said. "The veneration of holy images is permitted because this veneration is not paid to the image itself, but to that which it represents."

"But the second commandment is explicit about that," returned Mercer. "That very veneration is forbidden, because we are not to bow down to them. Besides if there is nothing in the image itself, why do they venerate one image so much more than another?"

"Oh, you are a great casuist," said I. "I wonder you do not take orders instead of going into a school. The long and the short of it is, you think it will be a fine thing to set up for yourself and to have a parcel of young ladies to govern."

"You are mistaken, madame," answered Mercer, with enough of dignity to make me ashamed of my petulance. "If you were to remain here in London or to go into the country, even down to that barbarous Cornwall, that my poor dear lady dreaded so much, I would give up all thoughts of going into the school, and stay with you as long as you wished, and that for your dear mother's sake as well as your own. But into the family of Madame de Fayrolles I will not go. And I do beg and entreat you, Mrs. Vevette, to think twice before you do so. Think of what your mother would say—think!"

But the conversation was here interrupted by a call from my aunt. She did not seem at all displeased when I told her of Mercer's decision.

"It is just as well," said she. "Of course, if you wished for the good woman, and she desired to come, I should say nothing against it; but it would not have been comfortable for her or you. But I wonder she should refuse so good an offer."

"It was a case of conscience, I believe," said I. "She was afraid of being converted."

"Oh, I understand. Well, petite, it is just as well. I shall have no difficulty. You shall take my second woman, who has been well trained and is an accomplished seamstress and hair-dresser. So, Mrs. Mercer—" as that damsel entered the room "you will not go with your young lady because you are afraid of being converted. Does not that in itself show you how weak your cause is, and how conscious you are of its weakness?"