Madame de l’Enclos, separated from both her husband and daughter, and devoting her life to pious exercises, acquired against them the violent prejudices natural in one who makes such a sacrifice upon the altar of sentiment.  The worldly life of her daughter gave birth in her mind to an opinion which she deemed the natural consequence of it.  The love of pleasure, in her estimation, had destroyed every vestige of virtue in her daughter’s soul and her neglect of her religious duties had converted her into an unnatural being.

But she was agreeably diverted from her ill opinion when her malady approached a dangerous stage.  Ninon flew to heir mother’s side as soon as she heard of it, and without becoming an enemy of her philosophy of pleasure, she felt it incumbent upon her to suspend its practice.  Friendship, liaisons, social duties, pleasure, everything ceased to amuse her or give her any satisfaction.  The nursing of her sick mother engaged her entire attention, and her fervor in this dutiful occupation astonished Madame de l’Enclos and softened her heart to the extent of acknowledging her error and correcting her estimate of her daughter’s character.  She loved her daughter devotedly and was happy in the knowledge that she was as devotedly loved.  But this was not the kind of happiness that could prolong her days.

Notwithstanding all her philosophy, Ninon could not bear the spectacle presented by her dying parent.  Her soul was rent with a grief which she did not conceal, unashamed that philosophy was impotent to restrain an exhibition of such a natural weakness.  Moreover, her dying mother talked to her long and earnestly, and with her last breath gave her loving counsel that sank deep into her heart, already softened by an uncontrollable sorrow and weakened by long vigils.

Scarcely had Madame de l’Enclos closed her eyes upon the things of earth, than Ninon conceived the project of withdrawing from the world and entering a convent.  The absence of her father left her absolute mistress of her conduct, and the few friends who reached her, despite her express refusal to see any one, could not persuade her to alter her determination.  Ninon, heart broken, distracted and desolate, threw herself bodily into an obscure convent in the suburbs of Paris, accepting it, in the throes of her sorrow, as her only refuge and home on earth.

Saint-Evremond, in a letter to the Duke d’Olonne, speaks of the sentiment which is incentive to piety: 

“There are some whom misfortunes have rendered devout through a certain kind of pity for themselves, a secret piety, strong enough to dispose men to lead more religious lives.”

Scarron, one of Ninon’s closest friends, in his Epistle to Sarrazin, thus alludes to this conventual escapade: 

“Puis j’aurais su * * *
* * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * * * * * *
Ce que l’on dit du bel et saint exemple
Que la Ninon donne a tous les mondains,
En se logeant avecque les nonais,
Combien de pleurs la pauvre jouvencelle
A repandus quand sa mere, sans elle,
Cierges brulants et portant ecussons,
Pretres chantant leurs funebres chanson,
Voulut aller de linge enveloppee
Servir aux vers d’une franche lippee.”