falsehoods. A lie told merely for the injury of another, for our own
interest alone, or for no object at all, he painted as a sin worthy of
penance. But a lie told for the good of the church or Convent, was
meritorious, and of course the telling of it a duty. And of this class
of lies there were many varieties and shades. This doctrine has been
inculcated on me and my companions in the nunnery, more times than I can
enumerate: and to say that it was generally received, would be to tell a
part of the truth. We often saw the practice of it, and were frequently
made to take part in it. Whenever anything which the Superior thought
important, could be most conveniently accomplished by falsehood, she
resorted to it without scruple.

There was a class of cases in which she more frequently relied on
deception than any other.

The friends of the novices frequently applied at the Convent to see
them, or at least to inquire after their welfare. It was common for them
to be politely refused an interview, on some account or other, generally
a mere pretext; and then the Superior usually sought to make as
favorable an impression as possible on the visitors. Sometimes she would
make up a story on the spot, and tell the strangers; requiring some of
us to confirm it, in the most convincing way we could.

At other times she would prefer to make over to us the task of
deceiving, and we were commended in proportion to our ingenuity and
success.

Some nun usually showed her submission, by immediately stepping forward.
She would then add, perhaps, that the parents of such a novice, whom she
named, were in waiting, and it was necessary that they should be told