When I was little, my Mum gave me a copy of this books that she inherited from her older cousin. I read it over and over, and wished my Daddy go away and then return, so I could earn his love. (Amusingly, my Mom also confessed to this fantasy during her childhood reading.)

As a smart-alec child in Catholic school, I was well convinced of my ability to out argue anyone on matters of doctrine, so Elsie's religious tribulations didn't have much of an impact.

Rereading this as a grownup and an agnostic, I really, really struggled to find only of my chilhood joy in the story - instead it struck me as terribly morbid and negative.

As an adult, I still enjoy many other classic novels with overtly religious sentiments, for example, those by L.M. Alcott's or G. S. Porter. But this novel has no joy or peace in it. ( )