286 FRENCH AUTHORESS. 



white garland upon her head, and both gave way to the merriment of the 

 moment, while they rolled on the green turf, more fresh and graceful than 

 the first flowers of spring. 



" The novice then rose and replaced her head-dress with a panting air. 



" ' Enough, enough,' said she to her playful companion, ' this is not 

 proper. If sister Olympia were to see me without my cap she would 

 scold me.' 



" ( Well, and what of that ? Don't they scold me the whole day long. 

 Sometimes it makes me cry, more frequently it makes me laugh.' 



" * They scold you, do they,' said the novice opening her large blue eyes 

 in amazement, f I thought they only scolded in convents.' 



"' Oh, Lord, yes ! One is scolded everywhere in the convent, in the 

 diligence, at the theatre. The old are alwas cross to the young.' 



"' At the theatre?' 



" ' Yes ; at the theatre. Does that surprise you?' 



'* * So then you go to the play. Do tell me, is it so delightful ? 



" ' Delightful ! not at all, that I can assure you. It is mortally tire- 

 some and annoying.' 



" ' Well, that's singular. A novice once told me she had been at the 

 Opera at Bordeaux, when she was a very little girl, and she found it so 

 delightful that it was perpetually occurring to her recollections ; she used 

 to say it was a great pity the nuns were forbidden to go there.' 



<c l You are forbidden ! and why? surely because it is not worth the trouble. 

 But believe me, you have nothing to regret. If you knew that pleasure 

 as well as I do, so far from accounting it a privation, you would bless the 

 severity of the order that delivers you from it.' 



" ' So then you go to the theatre very often.' 



(< e Alas ! yes every evening.' 



" ' Every evening. Then you are very rich !' 



" ' Rich ! I have not got a farthing ; but it costs me nothing ; on the 

 contrary, the play brings me money that is, is supposed to do so, for my 

 mother takes all.' 



" ' Poor girl !' said the novice, drawing the arm of the actress 

 within her own, ' you are unhappy ?' 



' e e Most unhappy ! they see me adorned with fine dresses, diamonds, 

 feathers, and flowers, and they say to themselves, How happy and 

 beautiful she looks. They do not know that nothing of all this is 

 mine, and that I have nothing but a faded bonnet and a sad heart, 

 and that I only assume my finery and my smiles, to step upon the 

 stage. They don't know all this.' 



" ' To step upon the stage ? What ? are you an actress ?' 



" The arms of the novice dropt to her sides, and she stood motion- 

 less with astonishment. 



" * You are scandalized ! nay, sooth, you ought to pity me, and 

 if your God measures the rewards of heaven by the miseries of this 



life, my share will, probably, exceed yours. * * 



# ' * * * ' * * * 



God will judge us, sister. But all this is nothing to what is in 

 reserve for me but, come, tell me about yourself. Do you intend 

 becoming a Sister of Charity ?' 



" ' Alas ! not yet. I can't take the vows until I am twenty years 

 of age, but in the mean time, I wear the dress and do the duty of 

 the order.' 



" ' What, you will take vows at twenty, and those, too, irre- 

 vocable ?' 



