"Tell your young friend all about our plans, and when she is ready come
and tell me, and I will give you the letter to the abbess. Tell her to
bring nothing but what is strictly necessary, above all no diamonds or
trinkets of any value. You may assure her that the abbess will be
friendly, will come and see her every now and then, will give her proper
books--in a word, that she will be well looked after. Warn her not to
confide in the laysister who will attend on her. I have no doubt she is
an excellent woman, but she is a nun, and the secret might leak out.
After she is safely delivered, she must go to confession and perform her
Easter duties, and the abbess will give her a certificate of good
behaviour; and she can then return to her mother, who will be too happy
to see her to say anything more about the marriage, which, of course, she
ought to give as her reason of her leaving home."

After many expressions of my gratitude to her, and of my admiration of
her plan, I begged her to give me the letter on the spot, as there was no
time to be lost. She was good enough to go at once to her desk, where she
wrote as follows:

"My dear abbess--The young lady who will give you this letter is the same
of whom we have spoken. She wishes to spend three of four months under
your protection, to recover her peace of mind, to perform her devotions,
and to make sure that when she returns to her mother nothing more will be
said about the marriage, which is partly the cause of her temporary
separation from her family."

After reading it to me, she put it into my hands unsealed that Mdlle. X.
C. V. might be able to read it. The abbess in question was a princess,
and her convent was consequently a place above all suspicion. As Madame
du Rumain gave me the letter, I felt such an impulse of gratitude that I