At this Ursuline seminary she remained, under her sister’s care, until she was ten years old, when she was taken home again, and then placed in a Dominican convent, where she stayed eight months.  Here she was left much to herself, but was so happy as to find an abiding companion, a heaven-sent gift, in a copy of the Bible, which had been “providentially” left in the apartment assigned to her.  “I read it,” she says, “from morning to night; and having a very good memory, I learnt by heart all the historical parts.”  Whatever were the immediate results of this close acquaintance with the Book of books, it is certain that in after years, when the true light had shined into her soul, her early intimacy with the Bible was of great service to her progress, and helped to qualify her in some measure for writing her Explanations and Reflections on the sacred volume.  On her return home once more her religious state seems to have fluctuated considerably.  Family jealousies and jars deadened the fervour of her devotion.  Preparations for her first Sacrament under her sister’s guidance, and the actual participation in that ordinance, had for a time a beneficial effect.  But the solemnity of the Supper passed away without permanent influence on her heart.

She was now growing up a fine tall girl, of remarkable beauty and of equal fascination of speech and manner.  Her mother became proud of her loveliness, and took great interest in her dress and appearance.  Accomplished and attractive, she was welcome in every circle, and her wit and gaiety made her company much sought after.  Her serious impressions passed away, and her heart was hot in the chase after pleasure.  That it was still tender and susceptible we learn from a little incident at this period.  She had gone for a walk with her youthful companions, and during her absence a young cousin, De Toissi, who was going as a missionary to Cochin China, called for a short time at her father’s house.  On her return home she found that he had already departed, and she heard such an account of his sanctity and of his pious utterances that she was deeply affected and was overcome with sorrow, crying all the rest of the day and night.  Once more she sought earnestly “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding,” but sought it by deeds of charity and by bodily austerities, instead of by the simple way of faith.  At this time, in the fervour of her devotion, she resolved to enter a convent and become a nun.  Her father, however, believed that his daughter, whom he tenderly loved, might be truly religious without taking such an irrevocable step.  But soon—­whether through some juvenile attachment or not we cannot tell—­her good desires and resolves grew faint, she left off prayer, and lost such comfort and blessing as had been granted her from above.  “I began,” she says, “to seek in the creature what I had found in God.  And Thou, O my God, didst leave me to myself, because I had first left Thee, and Thou wast pleased, in permitting me to sink into the abyss, to make me feel the necessity I was under of maintaining communion with Thyself in prayer.”