About eight o’clock Papa would come to fetch me.  I remember that I used to look up at the stars with inexpressible delight.  Orion’s belt fascinated me especially, for I saw in it a likeness to the letter “T.”  “Look, Papa,” I would cry, “my name is written in Heaven!” Then, not wishing to see this dull earth any longer, I asked him to lead me, and with my head thrown back, I gazed unweariedly at the starry skies.

I could tell you much about our winter evenings at home.  After a game of draughts my sisters read aloud Dom Gueranger’s Liturgical Year, and then a few pages of some other interesting and instructive book.  While this was going on I established myself on Papa’s knee, and when the reading was done he used to sing soothing snatches of melody in his beautiful voice, as if to lull me to sleep, and I would lay my head on his breast while he rocked me gently to and fro.

Later on we went upstairs for night prayers, and there again my place was beside my beloved Father, and I had only to look at him to know how the Saints pray.  Pauline put me to bed, and I invariably asked her:  “Have I been good to-day?  Is God pleased with me?  Will the Angels watch over me?” The answer was always “Yes,” otherwise I should have spent the whole night in tears.  After these questions my sisters kissed me, and little Therese was left alone in the dark.

I look on it as a real grace that from childhood I was taught to overcome my fears.  Sometimes in the evening Pauline would send me to fetch something from a distant room; she would take no refusal, and she was quite right, for otherwise I should have become very nervous, whereas now it is difficult to frighten me.  I wonder sometimes how my little Mother was able to bring me up with so much tenderness, and yet without spoiling me, for she did not pass over the least fault.  It is true she never scolded me without cause, and I knew well she would never change her mind when once a thing was decided upon.

To this dearly loved sister I confided my most intimate thoughts; she cleared up all my doubts.  One day I expressed surprise that God does not give an equal amount of glory to all the elect in Heaven—­I was afraid that they would not all be quite happy.  She sent me to fetch Papa’s big tumbler, and put it beside my tiny thimble, then, filling both with water, she asked me which seemed the fuller.  I replied that one was as full as the other—­it was impossible to pour more water into either of them, for they could not hold it.  In this way Pauline made it clear to me that in Heaven the least of the Blessed does not envy the happiness of the greatest; and so, by bringing the highest mysteries down to the level of my understanding, she gave my soul the food it needed.

Joyfully each year I welcomed the prize day.  Though I was the only competitor, justice was none the less strictly observed, and I never received rewards unless they were well merited.  My heart used to beat with excitement when I heard the decisions, and in presence of the whole family received prizes from Papa’s hands.  It was to me like a picture of the Judgment Day!