"That is what I don't like—I mean all that mystery!" said Mrs. Thorpe. "I like things to be open and above board. Not that I mean to say one word about the ladies in the house we have left, who have been most kind, I am sure. I am only thinking what chances all this concealment gives to wicked or tyrannical persons. Suppose a nun misbehaves, or is thought to do so. She disappears, and word goes that she is sick. By and by it is said that she is dead. But who knows what has become of her?"
"But such things would never happen in a religious house," said I, half offended.
"My dear, human nature is a poor creature, as my dear father used to say, when he could find no other excuse for somebody. It is not fit to be trusted with arbitrary power."
"The Jesuits and the archbishop of Paris were religious persons when they persecuted Mother Angelique and the other people at Port Royal," said Amabel, who had heard that great lady's story many a time from Mother Perpetua; "but I am sure, Mrs. Thorpe, no one was ever persecuted in our house."
"I dare say not, my dear; I was only speaking of what might be."
This discussion had thoroughly diverted us, and made us forget to turn back for that last look we had promised ourselves. It was just as well, for such last looks are of no particular use.
We now began to see so many wonders, and these wonders increased upon us so fast as we drew near the city that we were silent from very amazement, and could only use our eyes. The crowded ways and marketplaces, the shops, the soldiers marching through the streets, the universal bustle of a seaport town—were enough to surprise and bewilder any country-bred person, much more two little cage-birds like ourselves, who had never in all our lives seen a dozen strange faces.
By the time we reached the lodging which the care of Captain Lowther had provided for us, we were thoroughly tired out, and ready to eat our supper and go to bed earlier even than we were used to do. We had both one chamber, with two little white and pink beds furnished with canopies. There was also a full-length mirror in our room, and various other luxuries. I dare say the place would look dingy enough to us now, but at that time it was quite a fairy palace.
"What a soft bed!" said I, as I lay down. "I don't know what Mother Prudentia would say to it."
"She would say we must not talk in bed, I suppose," replied Amabel. "What are they all doing at our old home?"