At this moment the young adept entered smiling, her eyes full of fire. She was attired in a short pelisse, open in front, and an embroidered muslin skirt which did not go beyond her knees. She looked like a sylph.
We were scarcely seated ere she reminded me of the place where my tale had stopped. I continued my recital, and when I was relating how Donna Lucrezia showed me Leonilda naked, M—M—went out, and the sly little puss asked me how I assured myself that my daughter was a virgin.
Taking hold of her through the wretched grating, against which she placed her pretty body, I showed her how I assured myself of the fact, and the little one found such pleasure in the game that, so far from feeling any suffering, she twice swooned away in ecstacy, all the while pressing my hand to the spot. Then she gave me her hand that she might afford me the pleasure I had given her, and when M—M—appeared during this enjoyable occupation, she said hastily:—
“It doth not matter. I have told her everything. My friend is kind, and she will not be vexed.”
M—M—, in sooth, affected to see naught of all this, and the precocious young girl wiped her hand in a kind of voluptuous delight, which showed how well she was pleased.
I proceeded with my history, but when I came to the episode of the poor girl who was tied,[103] describing all the trouble I had vainly taken with her, the little boarder grew so curious that she placed herself in the most seducing attitude so that I might be able to show her what I did. Seeing this, M—M—made her escape.
“Kneel down on the ledge,” said the little wanton, “and let me do it.”
The reader can guess her intention, and she would have succeeded in her purpose had not the fire which consumed me distilled itself away at the orifice.
The charming novice felt herself besprinkled, but after ascertaining that naught more could be done, she withdrew in some vexation. My fingers, however, consoled her for the disappointment, and I had the pleasure of seeing her look happy once more.
I quitted these charming creatures in the evening, promising to visit them again in a year, but as I walked home I could not but reflect how often these asylums, supposed to be devoted to chastity and prayer, do contain in themselves the hidden germs of corruption. How many a timorous and trustful mother is persuaded that the child of her affection will escape the dangers of the world by taking refuge in the cloister. But behind these bolts and bars desires grow to a frenzied extreme; they crave in vain to be satisfied....