At this moment a singular tableau is exhibited within that Convent cell—two female figures, one seated, the other standing—novice and nun; the former fair and young, the latter ugly as old. And still in greater contrast, the expression upon their faces. That of the girl’s downcast, demure, lids over the eyes less as if in innocence than repentant of some sin, while the glances of the woman show pleased surprise, struggling against incredulity!
Her suspicion still in the ascendant, Soeur Ursule stands regarding the disciple, so suddenly converted, with a look which seems to penetrate her very soul. It is borne without sign of quailing, and she at length comes to believe the penitence sincere, and that her proselytising powers have not been exerted in vain. Nor is it strange she should so deceive herself. It is far from being the first novice contre coeur she has broken upon the wheel of despair and made content to taking a vow of life-long seclusion from the world.
Convinced she has subdued the proud spirit of the English girl, and gloating over a conquest she knows will bring substantial reward to herself, she exclaims prayerfully, in mock pious tone:
“Blessed be Holy Mary for this new mercy! On your knees ma fille, and pray to her to complete the work she has begun!”
And upon her knees drops the novice, while the nun as if deeming herself de trop in the presence of prayer, slips out of the cloister, silently shutting the door.
Volume Three—Chapter Twenty Two.
A Sudden Relapse.
For some time after the exit of Soeur Ursule, the English girl retains her seat, with the same demure look she had worn in the presence of the nun; while before her face the book is again open, as though she had returned to reading it. One seeing this might suppose her intensely interested in its contents. But she is not even thinking of them! Instead, of a sharp skinny ear, and a steel grey eye—one or other of which she suspects to be covering the keyhole.