se two
furnaces. They received and enjoyed the reward of their united industry.
The success of their first efforts was fixed in their memory: for they
were very happy roasting the chestnuts, and they were all (Sister Frances
inclusive) unanimous in opinion that no chestnuts ever were so good, or
so well roasted. Sister Frances always partook in their little innocent
amusements; and it was her great delight to be the dispenser of rewards
which at once conferred present pleasure and cherished future virtue.

CHAPTER V

"To virtue wake the pulses of the heart,
And bid the tear of emulation start."

ROGERS.

Victoire, who gave constant exercise to the benevolent feelings of the
amiable nun, became every day more dear to her. Far from having the
selfishness of a favourite, Victoire loved to bring into public notice
the good actions of her companions. "Stoop down your ear to me, Sister
Frances," said she, "and I will tell you a secret--I will tell you why my
friend Annette is growing so thin--I found it out this morning--she does
not eat above half her soup every day. Look, there's her porringer
covered up in the corner--she carries it home to her mother, who is sick,
and who has not bread to eat."

Madame de Fleury came in whilst Sister Frances was yet bending down to
hear this secret; it was repeated to her, and she immediately ordered
that a certain allowance of bread should be given to Annette every day to
carry to her mother during her illness.

"I give it in charge to you, Victoire, to remember this, and I am sure it
will never be forgotten. Here is an order for you upon my baker: run and
show it to Annette. This is a pleasure you deserve; I am glad that you
have chosen for your friend a girl who is so good a daughter. Good
daughters make good friends."

By similar instances of goodness Victoire obtained the love and
confidence of her companions, notwithstanding her manifest superiority.
In their turn, they were eager to proclaim her merits; and, as Sister
Frances and Madame de Fleury administered justice with invariable
impartiality, the hateful passions of envy and jealousy were never
excited in this little society. No servile sycophant, no malicious
detractor, could rob or defraud their little virtues of their due reward.

"Whom shall I trust to take this to Madame de Fleury?" said Sister
Frances, carrying into the garden where the children were playing a pot
of fine jonquils, which