Truly, I did not wonder that she hated them, though I could not understand what benefit it could be to swear about it; but I did not doubt the truth of her story.  How often, in the convent from which I fled, had I heard them exult over the success of some deep laid scheme to entrap the ignorant, the innocent and the unwary!  If a girl was rich or handsome, as sure as she entered their school, so sure was she to become a nun, unless she had influential friends to look after her and resolutely prevent it.  To effect this, no means were left untried.  The grossest hypocricy, and the meanest deception were practised to prevent a girl from holding communication with any one out of the convent No matter how lonely, or how homesick she might feel, she was not allowed to see her friends, or even to be informed of their kind attentions.  So far from this, she was made to believe, if possible, that her relatives had quite forsaken her, while these very relatives were boldly informed that she did not wish to see them.  If they wrote to their friends, as they sometimes did, their letters were always destroyed, while those received at home were invariably written by the priest or Superior.  These remarks, however, refer only to those who are rich, or beautiful in person.  Many a girl can say with truth that she has attended the convent school, and no effort was ever made—­no inducement ever presented to persuade her to become a nun.  Consequently, she says that stories like the above are mere falsehoods, reported to injure the school.  This may be true so far as she is concerned, but you may be sure she has neither riches nor beauty, or if possessed of these, there was some other strong reason why she should be an exception to the general rule.  Could she know the private history of some of her school-mates, she would tell a different story.

I remember that while in the convent, I was one day sent up stairs to assist a Superior in a chamber remote from the kitchen, and in a part of the house where I had never been before.  Returning alone to the kitchen, I passed a door that was partly open, and hearing a slight groan within, I pushed open the door and looked in, before I thought what I was doing.  A young girl lay upon a bed, who looked more like a corpse than a living person.  She saw me, and motioned to have me come to her.

As I drew near the bed, she burst into tears, and whispered, “Can’t you get me a drink of cold water?” I told her I did not know, but I would try.  I hastened to the kitchen, and as no one was present but a nun whom I did not fear, I procured a pitcher of water, and went back with it without meeting any one on the way.  I was well aware that if seen, I should be punished, but I did not care.  I was doing as I would wish others to do to me, and truly, I had my reward.  Never shall I forget how grateful that poor sufferer was for a draught of cold water.  She could not tell how many days she had been fasting, for some of the time she had been insensible; but it must have been several days, and she did not know how long she was to remain in that condition.