214 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



not yet taken ; the black veil was not drawn. Again 

 the nuns pressed round, and this time they almost de- 

 voured her v^^ith kisses. 



I knev^ nothing of her story. I had not heard that 

 the ceremony v^as to take place till late in the evening 

 before, and I had made up my mind that she v^as old 

 and ugly ; but she was not, nor was she faded and worn 

 with sorrow, the picture of a broken heart ; nor yet a 

 young and beautiful enthusiast ; she was not more than 

 twenty-three, and had one of those good faces which, 

 without setting men wild by their beauty, bear the im- 

 press of a nature well qualified for the performance of 

 all duties belonging to daughter, and wife, and mother, 

 speaking the kindliness and warmth of a woman's heart. 

 It was pale, and she seemed conscious of the important 

 step and the solemn vows she was taking, and to have 

 no pangs ; and yet who can read what is passing in the 

 human breast ? 



She returned to the provesor, who drew over her 

 face a black veil ; and music rose in bursts of rejoicing, 

 that one Avho was given to the world to take a share in 

 its burdens had withdrawn herself from it. Imme- 

 diately commenced the hum of restrained voices ; and 

 working my way through the crowd, I joined a party of 

 ladies, one of whom was my fair countrywoman. She 

 was from a small country town in Pennsylvania, and 

 the romance of her feelings toward convents and nuns 

 had not yet worn off. On Carr era's first invasion she 

 had taken refuge in the convent of La Concepcion, and 

 spoke with enthusiasm of the purity and piety of the 

 nuns, describing some as surpassing in all the attributes 

 of woman. She knew particularly the one who had 

 just taken the veil, and told me that in a few days she 

 would appear at the grating of the convent to embrace 



