"Benedicite, good Mother Veronique! How are all within the house?" inquired Sister Josephine, going up to the wicket.

"The saints be praised, all are well! They are just going in to matins. You come in good time, my sisters! But who is she whom you bring with you?" inquired the old nun, nodding toward Salome, even while she detached a great key from her girdle, and unlocked the door, to admit the party.

"Why, then, Mother Veronique, don't you see? An old, well-beloved pupil come back to see our holy mother? Don't you recognize her? Have you already forgotten Mademoiselle Laiveesong, who left us only three years ago?" inquired Sister Josephine, as she led Salome into the portress' parlor, followed by the two younger sisters, Francoise and Felecitie.

"Ah! ah! so it is! Mademoiselle Salome come back to us!" joyfully exclaimed the old nun, seizing and fondling the hands of the visitor, and gazing wistfully into her flushed and feverish face. "Yes, yes, I remember you! Mademoiselle Laiveesong! Mademoiselle, the rich banker's heiress! I am very happy to see you, my dear child! And our holy mother will be filled with joy! She has gone to matins now, but will soon return to give you her blessing. Ah! ah! Mademoiselle Salome! Mais Helas! How ill she looks! Her hands are ice! Her head is fire! Her limbs are withes! She is about to faint!" added Mother Veronique, aside to Sister Josephine.

"She is just off a long and fatiguing journey. She is tired and hungry, and needs rest and refreshment. That is all," answered the sister, drawing the arm of the fainting girl through her own, and supporting her as she led her from the portress' parlor.

"Ah! ah! is this so? The dear child! Take her in and rest and feed her, my sisters! And when matins are over, bring her to our venerable mother, whose soul will be filled with rapture to see her," twaddled the old nun, until the party passed in from her sight.

Sister Josephine led Salome to her own cell, and made her loosen her clothes and lie down on the cot-bed, while Sister Francoise and Sister Felecitie went to the refectory and brought her a plate of biscuit and a glass of wine and water.

Wine was not the proper drink for Salome, in her flushed and feverish condition. But she was both faint and thirsty, and the wine, mixed with water, seemed cool and refreshing, and she quaffed it eagerly.

But she refused the biscuits, declaring that she could not swallow. And so she thanked her kind friends for their attention, and sank back on her pillow and closed her eyes, as if she would go to sleep.

The sisters promised to bring the mother abbess to her bedside as soon as the matins should be over. And so they left her to repose, and went silently away to the chapel to take their accustomed places, and join, even at the "eleventh hour," in the morning worship.