"I do remember that it vill be all for ze Church," she has said to
me. And the priest has taught her all she knows, how to sew and
embroider, and cook and read, though he never lets her read
anything but works on religion. Religion, always religion! He has
brought her up like a nun, crushed the life out of her. Until I
found her out, found my jewel out. It is Tennyson who says that.
But his "Maud" was freer to woo than Hortense, freer to love and
kiss and hold--my God! that night while I watched them studying and
bending over those cursed works on the Martyrs and the Saints and
the Mission houses.
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