"Oh, sister! if I only might," said Minnette, clasping her hands; "but I, poor, blind, and helpless, what could I do in a convent?"
"You could pray, you could be happy; if you wish to enter, your blindness shall be no obstacle," said Sister Beatrice.
At this moment a servant entered and handed the sister a note, addressed to Minnette. She opened it, and read aloud:
"Every day for a month I have called here, and you have refused to see me. Minnette, I conjure you to let me visit you; I cannot rest until I have seen you, and obtained your forgiveness.
Louis."
Minnette's pale face flushed deep crimson, and then grew whiter than before, as she said, vehemently:
"No, I will not! I will not! I cannot see him more!"
"Why not?" said Sister Beatrice. "Confess, my child, that vanity still lingers in your heart. You do not wish to see him because you think he will be shocked to find you so changed and altered. Is it not so?"
"Yes, yes!" replied Minnette, in a fainting voice.
"But this is wrong; you ought to see him. As you are desirous of taking the vail, it is but right that you should see him, and bid him farewell, and let him inform your friends when he sees them. Come, my dear child, cast out this spirit of pride, and let me admit him, if only for a moment."