r touches mundane
existence; it is there the nuns receive their future companions in the
religious life and their weeping families; it is there the parents of
those in the convent infirmary come to hear from the doctor's lips the
decrees of life or death; for the convent is not only a retreat, it is
an asylum for the sick, the ailing, recommended to their patients by the
most eminent doctors, the most prominent surgeons.

Accustomed though he was to every kind of human misery, Fandor shuddered
at the thought of all these walls had seen and heard. His reflections
were broken by the arrival of a little old lady, whose eyes shone
strangely luminous in her pale and wrinkled face--a face showing the
highest distinction.

Fandor made a deep bow: it might have expressed the reverence of the
world to religion.

"Madame la Superieure," murmured he, "I have come to pay my respects to
you and to ask for news of your boarder."

The Mother Superior, in a gay tone, which contrasted with her cold and
reserved appearance, replied at once:

"Ah, you preferred to come yourself! You had not the patience to wait at
the telephone? I quite understand. Would you believe it, while the
sister, who has charge of this young girl, was being sent for, the
communication was cut off. That is why we could not give you any
information."

Fandor stared.

"But I do not understand, madame?"

The Mother Superior replied:

"Was it not you then who telephoned this morning to ask for news of
Mademoiselle Dollon?"

"I certainly did not do so!"

"In that case, I do not understand what it means, either! But it does
not matter much: you shall see your protegee now."

The Mother Superior rang: a sister appeared.

"Sister, will you take this gentleman to Mademoiselle Dollon! She was
walking in the park a short while ago, and is probably there now....
Monsieur, I bid you good day."

Gliding swiftly and noiselessly over the polished floor, the Mother
Superior disappeared. The nun led the way and Fandor followed: he was
very much upset by what the Mother Superior had just told him.

"How had Elizabeth's place of refuge been so quickly discovered?... Who
could have telephoned to get news of her?"

The nun had led Fandor across the great rectangular courtyard; then by
corridors, and many winding, vaulted passages, they had come out on to a
terrace, overlooking an immense park, which extended further than the
eye could see. Here were bosky dells, an