resses visited the convent, Sister Helene was immediately sent
for in order to talk French; these ladies departed delighted, and in
aristocratic circles talked of "our convent," in order to distinguish it
from the other at the opposite end of the town, which was humble and
poverty-stricken, without cultured nuns and unvisited by grand ladies.

This time also, scarcely had Helene sat down to her tea than she was
sent for by the abbess.

"May I come in?" said a voice behind the door.

"Certainly," answered Helene. "Ah, it is you, Sister Athanasia."

"Peace be with you, and God bless you; will you come to our Mother
Varlaama."

"What is it?"

"Nothing; only a note for you, and they are waiting."

The abbess was a stout, heavy woman, with a plain but honest face such
as is often seen in tradesmen's widows who have lived a quiet life with
a sober and affectionate husband. She received Helene with a tender
kiss:

"General Khlobestovsky's lady asks me to let you go to her this evening;
she is particularly anxious about it and has sent the carriage."

"But it was just this evening that I did not want to go out."

"And why, may I ask? She is one of your old school-fellows, and what is
more, rich and a fine lady. Go then for our sakes. Yesterday again her
husband has sent us from the country two carts full of meal, flour and
oil. We cannot refuse anything to such benefactors; he would regard it
as a want of respect and would become indifferent to us. Make this
sacrifice, Sister Helene, for the great advantage of us all. Finally I
exact it as an act of obedience, as part of your conventual service. Go!
Go!"

So saying, she embraced and dismissed her.

III

Helene felt ill at ease every time that she entered the Khlobestovsky's
drawing-room, not exactly because she disliked the mistress of the
house; they had been school-fellows and had remained friends. The
general was always absent; he preferred country life and the
superintendence of his estate, in the first place because his affairs
got on the better for it, and secondly he was thus out of reach of the
sentimental and romantic claims of his wife, claims which his personal
appearance did little to justify.

Each time that the general's wife saw Helene again, she applied a fine
cambric handkerchief to her eyes to wipe away some tears, her flabby
cheeks quivered, and innumerable wrinkles appeared round her chin and
mouth.

"What self-sacrifice!" she invariabl