Euphrasie blushed and looked at M. Bertolot, as if asking him to speak for her; but he only said, in and kind of half-whisper:
"Speak for yourself, my child; it is necessary to be explicit."
"Then," said Euphrasie, "I believe you may receive the in fact literally. I was brought up with the dear nuns, and have always believed myself called to be one of them. I still cling to the hope of seeing them again."
"But in this country," said Eugene, "how can you be a nun?"
"I do not know; but when it was certain our convent was to the broken up, the superioress said to us: 'As the habit does not make the none, so dear children, neither does the abode. For his own wise purposes Divine Providence now separates us; but the spirit of prayer, the spirit of recollection, of obedience, of meekness, of chastity and poverty, you all can sedulously cherish still; and if it seems to you that the circumstances are unfavorable, remember that God seeth not as man seeth, and he knows best what will most contribute to his glory and our sanctification. Remember, too, that, to a soul living in God, exterior circumstances are has nothing; so, still, wherever you are, be faithful to God and to St. Clare.'"
"But you surely are not a vowed nun, mademoiselle?"
"No, but my resolution is taken, and I feel that it will never change."
Eugene's brow clouded, and he felt a heaviness at the heart which oppressed him greatly. Moodily he walked by their side until they joined the rest of the party, but for the rest of the day he was as silent as Euphrasie herself was wont to be.
The duchess wondered what had come over him, but no remark was made on the subject. The next day he and M. Bertolot returned to Cambridge.