Dreaming of a chapel without entering it, is a sign of caution because business is bad. It is equivalent to the advice of praying so that help will come from the outside. Dreaming about being in a small chapel that lacks religious figures insinuates that the dreamer is disenchanted with his or her own activities and that the dreamer wishes to switch jobs to one in a less isolated place. People who dream that they are inside a chapel imply that their romantic relationships are not solid, they are only temporary, even though they might mistake it for true love.

…Dreaming of a chapel, denotes dissension in social circles and unsettled business. To be in a chapel, denotes disappointment and change of business. For young people Dreaming of entering a chapel, implies false loves and enemies. Unlucky unions may entangle them….

Entering a chapel is a sign that you’re looking for something in the bottom of your soul. Certain contradiction will be clarified.

…Dreaming you’re entering a chapel means that in your soul, there is something very deep. It may also indicate that soon you will recover happiness and well-being….

(See Church.)

Hope to regain happiness in a short period of time.

…a grocer in Lemon Street, and must be making a good six hundred a year clear profit. He hires a carriage every Sunday afternoon — not that I approve of desecrating the Sabbath in such a manner — only in his case there is some excuse, as he is hard-working and honest, and his wife is too delicate to walk; she is most genteel, she invariably dresses in silk when she comes to chapel, and gives most liberally. Her daughter’s name isMartha — Martha!” and he turned up his eyes heavenwards as he repeated the name. “Well, to prove to you how sorely the devil tries me,” he went on, ” I dreamed last night I was calling on the Gardner’s, and, just as Mrs. Gardner was handing me a cup of tea, into the room, with a bounce and giggle (so utterly unlike herself; she is a most decorous…

…— so beautiful” that I thought I should never tire looking at her. Pooh! Lil, you needn’t be jealous, old girl! She is none of my sort, anyhow.”Now!” she exclaimed with a queer kind of snarl, as she took off the glove of her left hand so as to show me the tell-tale band of gold on the third finger — ” now, Mr. Bailey, are you satisfied ? There is nothing of the missionary about me, is there?” And when I saw the long, pointed nails, pink and polished like sea-shells, just as I’ve always been told they do them at the lady-barber’s, I coughed. Observe my astuteness, Lil. I saw now that she was no prig from a church or chapel, but a member of what folks call “The Smart Set.” Yet how did she know Mr. Towell, and what brought her here? Was she one of us…