n duty to watch over the slumbers of the children,
she left the dormitory by the rectangular passage that led to the nuns'
house, and repaired at once to the cell occupied by the abbess.

It was a plain little den, in no respect better than those tenanted by
her humble nuns, twelve feet long, by nine broad, with bare walls, and
bare floor, and a small grated window at the farther end, opposite the
narrow, grated door by which the cell was entered. It was furnished
poorly with a narrow cot bed, a wooden stool, and a small stand, upon
which lay the office-book of the abbess, and above which hung the
crucifix.

As Salome entered the cell, the abbess arose from her knees and signed
for her visitor to be seated.

Salome sat down on the foot of the cot, and the abbess drew the stool and
placed herself near.

Then Salome saw the lady-superior was even paler and graver than usual;
and anxious as the young lady felt to hear the abbess' story, she thought
she would give her more time to recover, and even assist her in doing
so, by diverting her thoughts to the new incident of the ring, which she
produced and laid upon the mother's lap, saying:

"That was found by me in the bosom of little Marie Perdue's dress. It was
donated to the house, for the benefit of the child. Here is the scrap of
writing in which it was rolled."

The abbess silently took up the ring and the paper, and examined the
first and read the last, saying:

"Such mysterious donations to the children are not uncommon, and are
generally supposed to be offered by the unknown parents. This, however,
is by far the most valuable present that has ever been made by any one to
the institution, and must be worth at least a thousand Napoleons. It was
made by the visitors of this morning, I suppose?"

"Yes, madam, it was."

"I see, I understand. Take charge of it, my daughter, until we can
deliver it to the sister-treasurer," directed the lady-superior, as she
replaced the ring in its wrapper and returned both to Salome.

"But, mother, I wish myself to become the purchaser of this ring. I have
a thousand pounds with me. I will give them for the ring."

"My daughter!" exclaimed the abbess in surprise. "Why should you wish to
possess this bauble? It can be of no use to you in the life you are about
to enter, even if the rules of our order would permit you to retain it,
which you know they would not."

"Mother! it was my father's ring! It was a part of the property