arranged. She opened a door in the grating, and we all went through to
the other side of the room. On seeing me pale and my terrified eyes full
of tears, she gently took my hand in hers and, turning her back to my
father, raised her veil. I then saw the sweetest and merriest face
imaginable, with large child-like blue eyes, a turn-up nose, a laughing
mouth with full lips and beautiful, strong, white teeth. She looked so
kind, so energetic, and so happy that I flung myself at once into her
arms. It was Mother St. Sophie, the Superior of the Grand-Champs
Convent.

"Ah, we are friends now, you see," she said to my father, lowering her
veil again. What secret instinct could have told this woman, who was not
coquettish, who had no looking-glass and never troubled about beauty,
that her face was fascinating and that her bright smile could enliven
the gloom of the convent?

"We will now go and see the house," she said.

We at once started, she and my father each holding one of my hands. Two
other nuns accompanied us, one of whom was the Mother Prefect, a tall,
cold woman with thin lips, and the other Sister Seraphine, who was as
white and supple as a spray of lily of the valley. We entered the
building, and came first to the large class-room in which all the pupils
met on Thursdays at the lectures, which were nearly always given by
Mother St. Sophie. Most of them did needlework all day long; some worked
at tapestry, others embroidery, and still others decalcography.

The room was very large, and on St. Catherine's Day and other holidays
we used to dance there. It was in this room, too, that once a year the
Mother Superior gave to each of the sisters the _sou_ which represented