possibly follow the opening phase of
enthusiasm.

The rules prevented the question whether
any answer to this letter had arrived.
Madame Blandine now and then said,
"There is nothing, my dear daughter.
Accept this first trial of your faith
courageously. Pray, pray much. If your
parents abandon you, you will always have
the good God for your father, the Holy
Virgin for your mother, and the amiable
Jesus for your spouse. Your family's
silence is a sort of acquiescence in the step
you have taken," &c.

The transition from this to the question
of dowry was logical and easy. Madame
Blandine made minute inquiries respecting
the fortune of Sister X.'s parents; if she
knew the conditions of their marriage
contract; from which side the property came.
But the girl was almost ignorant on this
important point. She knew of no other
property belonging to her parents besides
the house and garden where they resided.
They had lost money, but not all. She
believed that the small income was principally
derived from her mother.

The superior was very attentive. "So
far, so good," she said. "Now tell me
frankly; you ought to know your parents'
tempers: do you think them capable of
disinheriting you?"

"I don't know. My father is hot-tempered,
but weak. As to my mother, I have
always heard her speak against convents,
and severely blame those who left their
fortune to them. My mother is quieter than
my father; nevertheless, I believe she is
firmer and more decided in her opinions."

"You must write again, my dear daughter.
How much may La Tour be worth, house
and garden together?"

"I have occasionally heard it valued at
ten or twelve thousand francs."

"Moreover, your parents must possess
the means of portioning you off, since your
marriage was quite a settled thing; and
nothing but the most providential
circumstances prevented its being an accomplished
fact."

"I have heard some talk, dear reverend
mother, of thirty thousand francs, invested
in the funds; and I fancy that—"

"Thirty thousand francs! What a deal
of good might be done with such a sum!
What a pity, my dear daughter, that your
parents don't understand the happiness and
the holiness of your vocation! Instead of
portioning you for the world, why don't
they devote the money to the glory of
God? But we must not think of it; we
must not even suppose that they will give
you the merest trifle, at least at present.
Isn't that your opinion, my poor dear
child?"

"You see, my mother, they have not
condescended to send me an answer."

"You will get an answer by-and-bye.
We will pray so fervently to Jesus and to
His most holy and most powerful mother,
that they will be sure to accord you that
favour. Courage, then, my daughter. God
has granted you a good part, which shall
not be taken from you."

One day Madame Blandine sent for
Sister X. at recreation time. She had just
received a letter, she said, from a curé in
the environs of St. Marceau, who did not
wish his name to be mentioned. On entering
her room, Sister X.'s first movement
was to seize the letter. Madame Blandine
at first smiled; then, assuming her authoritative
look, she said, "How worldly you
still are, my poor child! What haste!
what curiosity! Go back to recreation.
This evening you shall know what is in the
letter."

"But at least, ma mère, tell me what is
going on at St. Marceau. Is my father well
or ill? And my mother?"

"Gently, my daughter; things are
going on better than you fancy. Ask
me no further questions. Return to the
garden at once. I wish to mortify your
carnal sentiments a little, especially your
curiosity."

Sister X. retired, offended with this little
scolding, which was the first she had
received. Hitherto, all had been sugar and
honey. After supper she watched every
movement, expecting to be sent for from one
minute to another. But no sign was made,
and it was not until the close of the subsequent
service that the summons came.
This time Sister X. rose slowly, and
mounted the staircase with measured steps.
After knocking at the door, she opened it
composedly, and remained standing until
it should please Madame Blandine to motion
her to be seated.

"That is much better, my dear daughter,"
she said, smiling in the most gracious
manner. "My little lesson has done you a
deal of good. Come, and let me kiss you."

All anger vanished at this kindly
reception.

"Sit close to me," she continued, "in
order that we may talk without disturbing
the silence of the house. Here is the letter
I mentioned. Read it yourself."