After her first visit there the chapel became a nightmare to her--because, at once, she had felt its power.

She had known--she had always known and it had not needed Mr.Magnus to tell her--that there was something in this religion--yes, even in the wretched dirt and disorder of her father's soul--but with that realisation that there was indeed something, had come also the resolved conviction that life could not be happy, simple, successful unless one broke from that power utterly, refused its dictates, gave no hearing to its messages, surrendered nothing--absolutely nothing--to its influence.

Had not some one said to her once, or was it not in her little red A Kempis, that "once caught one might never escape again"?
She would prove that, in her own struggle and independence, to be untrue.

The chapel should not have her, nor her father's ghost, nor the dim half-visualised thoughts and memories that rose like dark shadows in her soul and vanished again.

She would believe in nothing save what she could see, listen to nothing that was not clear and simple before her.