“Our family are the patrons of this convent, which is devoted to penitents.  It is situated in an inaccessible spot, and the inmates are in the charge of a kind mother-superior, who does her best to soften the manifold austerities of their existences.  They only work and pray, and see no one besides their confessor, who says mass every day.  We are the only persons whom the superioress would admit, as long as some of our family are present she always let them bring whom they like.”

This story touched me and brought tears to my eyes.  Poor Mary Magdalen!  Cruel empress!  I think I have noted in another passage the source of her austere virtue.

When we were announced the mother-superior came to meet us, and took us into a large hall, where I soon made out the famous penitent amongst five or six other girls, who were penitents like herself, but I presume for trifling offences, as they were all ugly.  As soon as the poor women saw us they ceased working, and stood up respectfully.  In spite of the severe simplicity of her dress, Therese made a great impression on me.  What beauty!  What majesty brought low!  With my profane eyes, instead of looking to the enormity of the offences for which she was suffering so cruelly, I saw before me a picture of innocence—­a humbled Venus.  Her fine eyes were fixed on the ground, but what was my surprise, when, suddenly looking at me, she exclaimed,—­

“O my God! what do I see?  Holy Mary, come to my aid!  Begone, dreadful sinner, though thou deservest to be here more than I. Scoundrel!”

I did not feel inclined to laugh.  Her unfortunate position, and the singular apostrophe she had addressed to me, pierced me to the heart.  The mother-superior hastened to say,—­

“Do not be offended, sir, the poor girl has become mad, and unless she really has recognized you . . . .”

“That is impossible, madam, I have never seen her before.”

“Of course not, but you must forgive her, as she has lost the use of her reason”

“Maybe the Lord has made her thus in mercy.”

As a matter of fact, I saw more sense than madness in this outburst, for it must have been very grievous for the poor girl to have to encounter my idle curiosity, in the place of her penitence.  I was deeply moved, and in spite of myself a big tear rolled down my face.  The count, who had known her, laughed, but I begged him to restrain himself.

A moment after, the poor wretch began again.  She raved against me madly, and begged the mother-superior to send me away, as I had come there to damn her.

The good lady chid her with all a true mother’s gentleness, and told her to leave the room, adding that all who came there only desired that she should be saved eternally.  She was stern enough, however, to add, that no one had been a greater sinner than she, and the poor Magdalen went out weeping bitterly.

If it had been my fortune to enter Milan at the head of a victorious army, the first thing I should have done would be he setting free of this poor captive, and if the abbess had resisted she would have felt the weight of my whip.