"Come home with me, dear Annie, I beg of you."

"Nay, sister, think not so meanly of me, as to deem that I cannot endure for a few weeks or months, privations which these dear ladies suffer always."

"Oh! they are nuns, you know."

"But that does not alter, their nature, and once, they were in the world, rich, titled, honored. I would learn of them what has given them power thus to trample the world beneath their feet. Leave me for a while, my sister; if I find the life too hard for me, I will come to you."

"You promise?"

"I do, believe me, Adelaide."

And with this promise Adelaide was obliged to be content. She prepared to wend her way homewards. As she rose for that purpose, the superioress said: "Your grace will have a solitary journey. May I venture to offer you a book to beguile the tedium of the way?" Adelaide smilingly assented, and on getting in her carriage, Euphrasie placed into her hands Avrillon's meditations for every day in Lent. Absorbed at first in her own thoughts, Adelaide, heeded the book but little: but after a while, to relieve ennui, she began its perusal, and was soon astonished at the interest it excited within her breast.

CHAPTER XXVI.

On the morning of Annie and Adelaide's departure for the convent, Mr. Godfrey had ordered breakfast for himself in his library, and had summoned Hester to attend him, on the pretext of not feeling well, but in reality to avoid a parting scene with his children. Hester, on the other hand, dreaded nothing more than they should depart without farewell; she had keenly felt Adelaide's words beside her mother's coffin, but in despite of her efforts could not effect an interview which should dispel the ill-feeling that oppressed her. Her father's jealousy of her holding any private intercourse with the rest of the family on the one hand, and the coldness of Adelaide on the other, seemed to present insurmountable obstacles. At length she heard the carriage draw up, and the voices departing; hastily she quitted the breakfast table, and rushed into the hall. The travellers were already there; she approached Annie with tears in her eyes. Annie was too sad herself to be angry just then, she imprinted on her sister's forehead the silent kiss her gesture pleaded for; but Adelaide went forward and seated herself in the carriage, waving her hand for a general adieu, and Hester fell back weeping on her brother's shoulder as the vehicle drove away from the door.

"O Eugene! I had no hand in this; tell me at least that you believe me," sobbed the poor girl.