he faces of the Holy
Family not only failed to display the right purity and tenderness of
expression, but absolutely failed to present any expression at all. It
is flat heresy to say so, but the valuable Correggio was nevertheless
emphatically, and, in so many words, a very uninteresting picture.

So much for the convent and the work that I was to do in it. My next
anxiety was to see how the restrictions imposed on me were to be carried
out. The first day, the Mother Superior herself mounted guard in the
parlor--a stern, silent, fanatical-looking woman, who seemed determined
to awe me and make me uncomfortable, and who succeeded thoroughly in
the execution of her purpose. The second day she was relieved by the
officiating priest of the convent--a mild, melancholy, gentleman-like
man, with whom I got on tolerably well. The third day, I had for
overlooker the portress of the house--a dirty, dismal, deaf, old woman,
who did nothing but knit stockings and chew orris-root. The fourth day,
a middle-aged nun, whom I heard addressed as Mother Martha, occupied the
post of guardian to the precious Correggio; and with her the number of
my overlookers terminated. She, and the portress, and the priest, and
the Mother Superior, relieved each other with military regularity, until
I had put the last touch to my copy. I found them ready for me every
morning on entering the parlor, and I left them in the chair of
observation every evening on quitting it. As for any young and beautiful
nuns who might have been in the building, I never so much as set eyes
on the ends of their veils. From the door to the parlor, and from the
parlor to the door, comprised the whole of my experience of the inside
of the convent.

The only one of my superintending companions with whom I established
anything like a familiar acquaintance was Mother Martha. She had no
outward attractions to recommend her; but she was simple, good-humored,
ready to gossip, and inquisitive to a perfectly incredible degree. Her
whole life had been passed in the nunnery; she was thoroughly accustomed
to her seclusion, thoroughly content with the monotonous round of her
occupations; not at all anxious to see the world for herself; but, on
the other hand, insatiably curious to know all about it from others.
There was no question connected with myself, my wife, my children, my
friends, my profession, my income, my travels, my favorite amusements,
and even my favorite sins, which a woma