"'Sister, even if you experienced a decided religious vocation, and your parents gave their consent, even then I would urge you to reflect before pronouncing those eternal vows. But you have not that vocation, you are kept here against your will and without your parents' knowledge. What is to be done under such trying circumstances? To refuse to receive the veil, as you have hitherto done, is to expose yourself to fresh ill-treatment and severities, under which you would perish; to enter a religious Order, even if forced thereto, is to renounce forever all tender family joys. Before deciding, sister, endeavor to gain time. I shall help you by urging upon our Abbess the necessity of delay in order to complete your religious education. Your father and uncle have undoubtedly set on foot inquiries concerning your whereabouts. Keep up the hope that their efforts will be successful. Your father will move Robert Estienne, and he the Princess Marguerite to obtain your liberation. Rely upon my ardent wish to be useful to you. It is my duty to console you, and to sustain you in your cruel plight. I shall not fall short in my duty.'
"This, dear mother, was the advice of Brother St. Ernest-Martyr. I followed it. In the meantime it remained impossible for him either to leave the convent, or write to you. He dared not trust such a secret to any of the other monks. They would in all likelihood have betrayed him to the Abbot.
"Alas, dear mother, yet another misfortune was to befall me; Brother St. Ernest-Martyr ceased to be my religious instructor. A few days after our first conference he was replaced by another Augustinian monk.
"So many afflictions threw me upon a sick bed. I became seriously ill. By the grief that the absence of St. Ernest-Martyr caused me I realized how much I loved him. Of this love he is ignorant; he does not even suspect it; he shall never know it. My heart breaks at the mere thought of what remains for me to tell you.
"The new Augustinian monk, who was charged to catechise me, inspired me with such instinctive repulsion that I could not conceal its manifestations. He complained to the Mother Superior of my ill will towards him. The Abbess summoned me before her, and notified me that, whether instructed or not, I was to take the vow the day after the next, adding that I would then be allowed to see my family.
"I entreated the Superior to grant me one more day to reflect upon so grave a step. My entreaty was granted. I then reasoned as follows: To refuse to become a nun is to expose myself to renewed acts of violence and flagellations the very recollection of which render me purple with shame; it is also to renounce the only hope of seeing from time to time my beloved parents. On the other hand I feel that my love for Brother St. Ernest-Martyr will end but with my life; seeing I can not be his, to renounce him is to renounce the world, and all family joys. Why, then, not take the veil?
"I was alone, without an adviser, weakened with suffering, beset by nuns who alternately resorted to persuasion and threats. I despaired of ever finding the means of informing you of my fate, good mother. I resigned myself to take the vow—
"This morning the ceremony was celebrated. I was christened in religion with a sad name. I am called St. Frances-in-the-Tomb. To-night I am to spend in prayers in the chapel of the Virgin, according to the custom for maids who have taken the veil.
"My vows being pronounced, the Abbess caused me to be supplied with writing material—paper, pen and ink—promising me that this letter would be forwarded to my family.
"I am wrong for having taken so grave a step without your consent, good mother, and without the consent of father.