these nuns, and thought of my Aunt Ruxton's nuns, who were so good to
her. Down corridors and stairs we now led our novice, and the nuns
showed her how to hold her hands tucked into her sleeves, and asked her
name; and having learned it was Fanny, Frances, Sister Frances, were
again overjoyed, because one of them was named Frances, the other was
Agnes. When, between Sister Agnes and Sister Frances the first, Sister
Frances the second entered the room, where we had left the abbess, Mrs.
Moilliet, Emily, and Susan, they did not know Fanny in the least, and
Harriet declared that, at the first moment, even she did not know her.
Mrs. Moilliet told me she said to herself, "What a very graceful nun is
coming now!"

After all had gathered round, and laughed, and admired, the abbess
signified to me, through our interpreter, that we could do no less than
leave her in the convent with them, and grew so mighty fond of Fanny,
that I was in as great a hurry to get her nun's dress off as I had been
to get it on; and when I had disrobed her, I could not think of a single
thing to give the poor nuns, having no pockets, and my bag left in the
carriage! At last, feeling all over myself, I twitched my little gold
earrings out of my ears, and gave one, and Fanny gave the other, to the
two nuns; and Sister Frances and Sister Agnes fell on their knees to
pray for and thank us.


_To_ MRS. EDGEWORTH.

PREGNY, _Sept. 6, 1820_.

The account of the loss of the three guides at Chamouni is, alas! too
true: three perished by stepping into the new-fallen snow which covered