could hear her through the thin partition giving utterance to sighs, which showed that she was unhappy.  Several times, too, she came upon her in the garden looking earnestly at a place where the wall had been broken, a spot whence it was said a Spanish countess had been carried off by a bold adventurer.  Jacqueline thought there must be something romantic in the history of this newcomer, and would have liked exceedingly to know what it might be.  As a prelude to acquaintance, she offered the young stranger some holy water when they met in the chapel, a bow and a smile were interchanged, their fingers touched.  They seemed almost friends.  After this, Jacqueline contrived to change her seat at table to one next to this unknown person, so prettily dressed, with her hair so nicely arranged, and, though her expression was very sad, with a smile so very winning.  She alone represented the world, the world of Paris, among all those ladies, some of whom were looking for places as companions, some having come up from the provinces, and some being old ladies who had seen better days.  Her change of place was observed by the nun who presided at the table, and a shade of displeasure passed over her face.  It was slight, but it portended trouble.  And, indeed, when grace had been said, Mademoiselle de Nailles was sent for by the Mother Superior, who gave her to understand that, being so young, it was especially incumbent on her to be circumspect in her choice of associates.  Her place thenceforward was to be between Madame de X-----, an old, deaf lady, and Mademoiselle J-----, a former governess, as cold as ice and exceedingly respectable.  As to Madame Saville, she had been received in the convent for especial reasons, arising out of circumstances which did not make her a fit companion for inexperienced girls.  The Superior hesitated a moment and then said:  “Her husband requested us to take charge of her,” in a tone by which Jacqueline quite understood that “take charge” was a synonym for “keep a strict watch upon her.”  She was spied upon, she was persecuted—­unjustly, no doubt.

All this increased the interest that Jacqueline already felt in the lady with the light hair.  But she made a low curtsey to the Mother Superior and returned no answer.  Her intercourse with her neighbor was thenceforward; however, sly and secret, which only made it more interesting and exciting.  They would exchange a few words when they met upon the stairs, in the garden, or in the cloisters, when there was no curious eye to spy them out; and the first time Jacqueline went out alone Madame Saville was on the watch, and, without speaking, slipped a letter into her hand.