“Oh, madame!” cried Mother Bunch, with simplicity; “such designs merit the thanks and blessings of every one.”

“And blessings do not fail us, my dear daughter, because we perform our promises.  Thus, an interesting workwoman—­such as you, for example—­is placed with persons that we suppose irreproachable.  Should she, however, perceive, on the part of her employers, or on that of the persons who frequent the house, any irregularity of morals, any tendency to what would offend her modesty, or shock her religious principles, she should immediately give us a detailed account of the circumstances that have caused her alarm.  Nothing can be more proper—­don’t you think so?”

“Yes, mother,” answered Mother Bunch, timidly, for she began to find this provision somewhat singular.

“Then,” resumed the superior, “if the case appears a serious one, we exhort our befriended one to observe what passes more attentively, so as to convince herself whether she had really reason to be alarmed.  She makes a new report to us, and should it confirm our first fears, faithful to our pious guardianship, we withdraw her instantly from the house.  Moreover, as the majority of our young people, notwithstanding their innocence and virtue, have not always sufficient experience to distinguish what may be injurious to their soul’s health, we think it greatly to their interest that they should confide to us once a week, as a child would to her mother, either in person or by letter, whatever has chanced to occur in the house in which we have placed them.  Then we can judge for them, whether to withdraw them or not.  We have already about a hundred persons, companions to ladies, young women in shops, servants, and needlewomen by the day, whom we have placed in a great number of families, and, for the interest of all, we have every reason to congratulate ourselves on this mode of proceeding.  You understand me, do you not, my dear daughter?”

“Yes-yes, mother,” said the sempstress, more and more embarrassed.  She had too much uprightness and sagacity not to perceive that this plan of mutually insuring the morality of masters and servants resembled a vast spy system, brought home to the domestic hearth, and carried on by the members of the institution almost without their knowledge, for it would have been difficult to disguise more skillfully the employment for which they were trained.

“If I have entered into these long details my dear daughter,” resumed Mother Sainte-Perpetue, taking the hearer’s silence for consent, “it is that you may not suppose yourself obliged to remain in the house in question, if, against our expectation, you should not find there holy and pious examples.  I believe Mme. de Bremont’s house to be a pure and godly place; only I have heard (though I will not believe it) that Mme. de Bremont’s daughter, Mme. de Noisy, who has lately come to reside with her, is not so exemplary in her conduct as could be desired, that she does not fulfil regularly her religious duties, and that, during the absence of her husband, who is now in America, she receives visits, unfortunately too frequent, from one M. Hardy, a rich manufacturer.”