have excused his
change:--I will not therefore injure a man whom I have found so truly
noble:--death, perhaps, his deprived me of him; the unrelenting sword
makes no distinction between the worthy and unworthy;--and the brave,
the virtuous du Plessis, may have fallen a victim in common with the
most vulgar.

These apprehensions had no sooner gained ground in her imagination, than
she became the most disconsolate creature in the world. The abbess took
advantage of her melancholy, as knowing the occasion of it, and began to
represent, in the strongest terms, the instability of all human
expectations:--you may easily see, my dear child, said she, that
monsieur either no longer lives, or ceases to live for you:--young men
are wavering, every new object attracts their wishes;--they are
impatient for a time, but soon grow cool;--absence renders them
forgetful of their vows and promises;--there is no real dependance on
them;--fly therefore to that divine love which never can deceive
you;--give yourself up to heaven, and you will soon be enabled to
despise the fickle hopes of earth.

Instead of saying any thing to comfort her, in this manner was she
continually persecuted; and tho' it is impossible for any one to have
less inclination to a monastic life than she had, yet the depression of
her spirits, the firm belief she now should never see du Plessis more,
the misfortune of her circumstances, joined to the artifices they made
use of, and the repeated offers of accepting her without the usual sum
paid on such occasions, might possibly at last have prevailed on
her.--She was half convinced in her mind that it was the only asylum
left to shield her from the wants and insults of the world; and the more
she reflected on the changes, the perplexities, and vexation, of
different kinds, the few years she yet had lived had presented her with,
the more reason she found to acquiesce with the persuasions of the
abbess. But heaven would not suffer the deceit practised on her to be
crowned with success, and discovered it to her timely enough to prevent
her from giving too much way to that despair, which alone could have
prevailed with her to yield to their importunities.

There was among the sisterhood a young lady called donna Leonora, who
being one of many daughters of a family, more eminent for birth than
riches, was compelled, as too many are, to become a nun, in order to
prevent her marrying beneath her father's dignity. She had ta