before the consecration. Laden with a great
sackful of rocks, he set out on his errand, but
in his eagerness he had overloaded his strength,
for he did not fly over the moor with his usual
swiftness. He dropped, therefore, a piece of
rock here and there to lighten the weight—
those pieces are still pointed out—but it was of
no use. So he flapped on and on, until a sudden
terror seized him at the smell of morning. The
dark mass of nunnery was dimly visible in
the grey mist. It was but a few minutes' flight,
when the cock crew. The reign of night was
over, and, with a heavy fall, the thousands and
thousands of devil's stones came harmlessly
down upon the barren moor, where to this day
they lie, only half an hour's walk from the
cloister.

If the present convent be really the same
that gave shelter to the pious nuns of old, it
must have been very much altered since their
time. The poor little cells have developed
into light and airy rooms; and, where they
have kept their original dimensions they are
transformed into charming boudoirs or cozy
studios, as the taste of their present owners
may direct.

The building has some old walls overgrown
with ivy, and is either windowless, or closely set
with windows in the most fantastical manner.
Some of these windows are narrow, others
small prison squares, and some are round.

This ancient part of the building is the
most picturesque, but except two small side
wings, which have some beautifully carved bay
windows, and are partly fitted up for the
personal use of the ladies, the old cloister is either
uninhabited, or used only for domestic offices.
The front is nearly all new, forming two long
wings on either side of a church, and
containing twenty-five suite of apartments, occupied
by as many canonesses. Each suite consists
of five rooms: one large drawing-room, a somewhat
smaller dining-room, a bedroom, and a
boudoir or cabinet, with a room either for use
of the lady's maid or as a sort of store-room.
Each lady has her own stores for her separate
household, but there is one large kitchen for
common use. There are, also, two large saloons
for grand occasions, and half a dozen spare
rooms for visitors; these, like the kitchen, the
saloons, the domestic offices and servants'
halls, are common property.

In one wing, resides the lady abbess; in the
other, the prioress. The abbess has a part of
the building wholly to herself, her separate
kitchen, her own cook, gardener, &c., and everything
on a scale far above that of the canonesses.
The prioress has also some decided privileges,
and a larger income; but she is subordinate to
the abbess, who has the chief care of
administration, and is aided by men of business,
including a well-paid lawyer steward. From the
property of the cloister, everybody in the
community receives a certain income paid in ready
money: the amount is not generally known,
but cannot be inconsiderable, as it not only
enables the canonesses who are without any
private property to live in ease and comfort, but
even to support poor relatives. A canoness often
takes her mother, sister, or some other female
relative to live with her; but this requires
special consent of the abbess, which is not always
obtained. Great care is required in adding new
elements to a society of women.

The abbess of Heilthal, when the writer lived
there, was not over-particular in this respect.
Gentle, kind-hearted, and obliging, she liked to
grant favours, and had so deep a sense of justice,
that she rarely claimed anything for herself
which she would not have granted to
another. She had living with her, a widowed
sister with half a dozen titles, enormous
German pride, much firmness, and an immoderate
love of the exercise of power. Whether
the most highly gracious Frau von Bombadenheim
was a blessing to her sister the abbess,
might be questioned. The sisters, at any rate,
seemed truly fond of one another; each spoke
as " we," and they were constantly mentioned
in the plural as " abbesses—" at times, of
course, with a mocking emphasis on the last
syllable. Everybody loved and respected the
gentle and well-meaning abbess in the singular,
but everybody hated her double, from whom
there was no escape. It was curious to see the
two sisters together, when advice or favour of
the lady abbess was required. She never gave
either, without a glance into the face, where she
seemed to read more quickly than in her own
mind a " Yes or No," or the evasive " We will
think of it, my love."

This " We will think of it, my love," was the
answer that Fräulein Elise von Dachstrutter
and her aunt received when they had asked
whether the lady abbesses might have any
objection to their giving tea and a dance?

Elise von Dachstrutter was one of the new
comers, had just taken the veil, as it was called,
and was spending her first quarter in Heilthal.
She was not more than nineteen, was graceful
and accomplished and fascinating in no common
degree, and had got up a perfect revolution,
not only within the walls of the cloister, but in
its vicinity. Everybody admired her, men and
women, old and young, high and low.

"She will let us know," said Elise to her
aunt. " That means Yes, of course; but why not
say so at once?"

"Wait and see, darling. I am rather afraid
the abbesses will not like the idea; it is so
decided an innovation, that I scarcely think the
Bombadenheim will give her consent."

"Oh! She looked quite pleased; nay, she
looked at me, even with an expression of
sympathy and tenderness, when I, trembling
a bit, made my request. She kept my hand all
the time in hers, and pressed and patted it
softly."

"Worse and worse," said the elder lady. " I
have often seen mischief come after that. You
do not know yet, child, what a life ours is. She
seldom patronises anything which others
suggest. She meddles with everything, and spies
into everybody's private affairs. She knows the