’How, Reverend Mother! you pleading for a heretic marriage, that would give our rights to a Huguenot—­what say I?—­an English renegade!’

’I plead not, brother.  The injustice towards you must be repaired; but I have a certain love for my niece, and I fear she will be heartbroken when she learns the truth, the poor child.’

’Bah!  The Abbess should rejoice in thus saving her soul!  How if her heretic treated Bellaise like the convents of England?’

’No threats, brother.  As a daughter of Ribaumont and a mother of the Church will I stand by you,’ said the Abbess with dignity.

’And now tell me how it has been with the child.  I have not seen her since we agreed that the request did but aggravate her.  You said her health was better since her nurse had been so often with her, and that she had ceased from her austerities.’

’Not entirely; for when first she came, in her transports of despair and grief on finding Soeur Monique removed, she extorted from Father Bonami a sort of hope that she might yet save her husband’s, I mean the Baron’s soul.  Then, truly, it was a frenzy of fasts and prayers.  Father Bonami has made his profit, and so have the fathers of Chollet—­all her money has gone in masses, and in alms to purchase the prayers of the poor, and she herself fasting on bread and water, kneeling barefooted in the chapel till she was transfixed with cold.  No chaufferette, not she!  Obstinate to the last degree!  Tell her she would die—­it was the best news one could bring; all her desire, to be in a more rigid house with Soeur Monique at Lucon.  At length, Mere Perrine and Veronique found her actually fainting and powerless with cold on the chapel-floor; and since that time she has been more reasonable.  There are prayers as much as ever; but the fancy to kill herself with fasting has passed.  She begins to recover her looks, nay, sometimes I have thought she had an air of hope in her eyes and lips; but what know I?  I have much to occupy me, and she persists in shutting herself up with her woman.’

‘You have not allowed her any communication from without?’

’Mere Perrine has come and gone freely; but she is nothing.  No, the child could have no correspondence.  She did, indeed, write a letter to the Queen, as you know, brother, six weeks ago; but that has never been answered, nor could any letters have harmed you, since it is only now that this young man is known to be living.’

’You are right, sister.  No harm can have been done.  All will go well.  The child must be wearied with her frenzy of grief and devotion!  She will catch gladly at an excuse for change.  A scene or two, and she will readily yield!’

‘It is true,’ said the Abbess, thoughtfully, ’that she has walked and ridden out lately.  She has asked questions about her Chateaux, and their garrisons.  I have heard nothing of the stricter convent for many weeks; but still, brother, you must go warily to work.’