told her to get up and dress herself. An
order from the Generale had arrived by
the last post, summoning the sister
immediately to Paris. She had thought it best
to let her sleep a little before starting.
Moreover, religious women ought always
to obey, and be ready to set off at a
moment's notice.

The nuns in the neighbouring beds paid
little attention to this colloquy. A few of
them sat up, and stared; but at a sign
from the superior they lay down again.
Not one of them dared utter a word either
of sympathy or curiosity. For one who
had been up all night, Madame Blandine
seemed in excellent spirits. On her pale
but smiling countenance a feeling of cruel
satisfaction was plainly legible. Sister X.
felt strongly inclined to revolt, and resist
the order, but at four in the morning was
on the way to Paris.

At the General House in Paris, Sister
X. drifted into her novitiate, like a fly
drawn by the smooth, but irresistible
current which precedes the plunge of the
cataract. Monastic direction knows perfectly
how to tire and wear out rebellious spirits,
until it has rendered them supple and
malleable. Imagine nine days of sequestration,
nine days of depressing mortifications,
reflections, readings, high-flown conversations,
and lengthy prayers, in a sombre
chapel as silent as the grave, redolent of
the incense burnt day by day. And then
fancy the effect of such a medium on the
brain of an inexperienced girl, naturally
inclined to reverie and already under
religious hallucinations. Add to this the
monastic picture of future punishments,
contrasted with the ineffable joys reserved by
the Divinity for his elect, the pure delights
of the cloister opposed to the atrocities of
a wicked world, and there is more than
enough to decide the irresolute, to turn the
balance of a hesitating will.

One day, a letter from St. Marceau
announced to the superiors the sudden death
of Sister X.'s father. It fell upon her like
a clap of thunder. She then beheld the
results of her conduct in their true and
proper light. She felt she had killed her
father. The letter unfortunately left no
doubt of it: he had died of grief. In vain
the nuns offered their common-place
consolations. The will of God, Providence,
and other fine words, only shocked her
despair and sharpened her remorse.

Sister X. wrote to her mother, assuring
her of her deep repentance, and offering to
return to her. She replied briefly and
bitterly, declining to receive her daughter.
The proceedings of the lawyers employed
by the convent caused a further estrangement
between Sister X. and her mother.
They insisted on everything being sold, in
order that the girl might get her full share.
They claimed the father's arms, his cross,
and his clothing as hers by undoubted
right. In her anger, Madame Soubeyran
said it was no more than just, for at all
times and in all places whatever persons
put to death had on them became the
perquisite of the executioner. She was obliged
to buy the things back at an exorbitant
price. Sister X. was not made aware of
these odious facts until several years
afterwards. She never saw her mother after
this time.

Sister X. was one of five novices, in
all, preparing to make profession on the
same day. During the retreat, they were
urgently and persistently exhorted to think
no more of their families, to banish from
their hearts every sentiment of human
affection. This proscription of earthly
affections, like every other article of the rule,
is subject to modifications according to
occasion; that is, with families from whom
the convent has expectations there are
relaxations in proportion to the hopes
entertained.

The vows on taking the veil are divided
into two periods. During the first, they
are binding for five years only, after which
they become perpetual. So long as the
first of those periods lasts, there are still
indulgences, distinctions, and bowings low
before heavy dowers; but as soon as the
final vows are uttered, the house pockets
the cash for good and all, and absolute
obedience is enforced on every nun without
respect of persons.

After profession, Sister X. was sent to
Auvergne, to a branch establishment which
had lately been founded. The superior,
Madame Ludivine, already mentioned,
swelled its scanty funds in several ways.
First, there was the boarding-school, from
which all small folk were scrupulously
excluded. Every pupil admitted belonged
to the noblesse or the haute bourgeoisie.
Then, there was a veritable shop, open to
all comers, that is, to all payers. Its
contents ranged from the smallest devotional
fiddle-faddles up to gold and silver stuffs
at fifty francs the yard. The boarders
could purchase there at cost price—for
of course the worthy sisters were above
making any profit by the trade—paper and
pencils, pens and ink, needles and thread,