Whilst Madeleine was sitting in the conservatory, musing over the gloomy
anticipations her dreams had cast over her thoughts, Louis Marie came
towards her. A beam of joy lit up her hectic cheek; she impressed
a kiss on the forehead of her darling son, and playfully reproved him
for the dreams that gave her so much trouble.

"Mother," we fancy we hear Louis reply, "you would not surely give
much credence to the imaginary evils of a dream. You know nothing can
happen to us except by the arrangement of God; not even a hair can fall
to the ground without his permission. I remember in college I was
very much delighted with a thesis one of the fathers gave us on the
Providence of God; it was so strange and so consoling to think that
great Being who created so many millions of worlds, and keeps them
flying around him with immense velocity, could occupy himself with us
human beings, who are no more than insects moving on this world, which
is but a speck in the immensity of the universe. But I know how it
is--our souls are immortal, and hence we must soar higher than the
countless worlds, were they ten times as great. Our blessed Lord, by
coming amongst us and dying to save those souls, showed us that he
thought more of us than of the bird of the air or the lily of the
field, clothed in such charming magnificence. Is it unreasonable that,
since he has given to each star a course, to each lily and each bird
a time and a clime, he should also determine for us the course we
should follow for his greater glory? And what, mother, if some unseen,
invisible destiny should really call me away; if it were for the glory
of God and the salvation of souls, would you not rejoice?

Madeleine paused for a moment before venturing a reply. She trembled;
a struggle between affection and duty passed within. Pleased with the
rich flow of virtuous sentiment that made her still more proud of her