nt. For it was actually to
the convent of the Ursulines, of which my father's sister was the
superior, that she conducted me next day.

Think of it, dear girls! I was fourteen, but not bigger than a lass of
ten, used to the open air and to the caresses of mother Catharine and my
brothers. It seemed to me as if I were a poor little bird shut in a great
dark cage.

My aunt, the abbess, Agnes de Morainville, took me to her room, gave me
bonbons and pictures, told me stories, and kissed and caressed me, but her
black gown and her bonnet appalled me, and I cried with all my might:

"I want mother Catharine! I want Joseph! I want Bastien!"

My aunt, in despair, sent for three or four little pupils to amuse me; but
this was labor lost, and I continued to utter the same outcries. At last,
utterly spent, I fell asleep, and my aunt bore me to my little room and
put me to bed, and then slowly withdrew, leaving the door ajar.

On the second floor of the convent there were large dormitories, where
some hundreds of children slept; but on the first there were a number of
small chambers, the sole furniture of each being a folding bed, a
washstand, and a chair, and you had to pay its weight in gold for the
privilege of occupying one of these cells, in order not to be mixed with
the daughters of the bourgeoisie, of lawyers and merchants. My mother, who
was very proud, had exacted absolutely that they give me one of these
select cells.

Hardly had my aunt left me when I awoke, and fear joined itself to grief.
Fancy it! I had never lain down in a room alone, and here I awoke in a
corner of a room half lighted by a lamp hung from the ceiling. You can
guess I began again my writhings and cries. Thereupon appeared before me
in the open door the most beautiful creature imaginable. I took her for a
fairy, and fell to gazing at her with my eyes full of amazement and
admiration. You have seen Madelaine, and you can judge of her beauty in
her early youth. It was a fabulous beauty joined to a manner fair, regal,
and good.

She took me in her arms, dried my tears, and at last, at the extremity of
her resources, carried me to her bed; and when I awoke the next day I
found myself still in the arms of Madelaine de Livilier. From that moment
began between us that great and good friendship which was everything for
me during the time that I passed in the convent. I should have died of
loneliness and grief without Madelaine. I had neither brothers n