"Yesterday," said the charming nun, "you left in my hands the two
portraits of my Venetian sister. I want you to give them to me."

"They are yours."

"I thank you. My second favour is, that you will be good enough to take
my portrait in exchange; you shall have it to-morrow."

"I shall be delighted. It will be the most precious of all my jewels, but
I wonder how you can ask me to take it as a favour, whereas you are doing
me a favour I should never have dared to demand. How shall I make myself
worthy of giving you my portrait?"

"Ah, dearest! it would be a dear possession, but God preserve me from
having it at the convent!"

"I will get myself painted under the costume of St. Louis of Gonzaga, or
St. Anthony of Padua."

"I shall be damned eternally."

"We will say no more about it."

She had on a dimity corset, trimmed with red ribbon, and a cambric
chemise. I was surprised, but politeness did not allow me to ask where
they came from, so I contented myself with staring at them. She guessed
my thoughts, and said, smilingly, that it was a present from the
countrywoman.