In this room, several ladies were waiting to take the cars.  As I walked across the room, one of them said, in a tone that grated harshly on my feelings, “Your skirt is below your dress.”  I did not feel very good natured, and instead of saying “thank you,” as I should have done, I replied in the most impudent manner, “Well, it is clean, if it is in sight.”  The lady said no more, and I sat down upon a sofa and fell asleep.  As I awoke, one of the ladies said, “I wonder who that poor girl is!” I was bewildered, and, for the moment, could not think where I was, but I thought I must make some reply, and rousing myself I turned to her, and said, “I am a nun, if you wish to know, and I have just escaped from a convent.”  She gave me a searching look, and said, “Well, I must confess you do look like one.  I often visit in Montreal where I see a great many of them, and they always look poor and pale.  Will you allow me to ask you a few questions?” By this time, I was wide awake, and realized perfectly where I was, and the folly of making such an imprudent disclosure.  I would have given much to recall those few words, for I had a kind of presentiment that they would bring me trouble.  I begged to be excused from answering any questions, as I was almost crazy with thinking of the past and did not wish to speak of it.

The lady said no more for some time, but she kept her eye upon me, in a way that I did not like; and I began to consider whether I had better wait for the cars, or start on foot.  I was sorry for my imprudence, but it could not be helped now, and I must do the best I could to avoid the unpleasant consequences which might result from it.  I had just made up my mind to go on, when I heard in the far distance, the shrill whistle of the approaching train; that train which I fondly hoped would bear me far away from danger, and onward to the goal of my desires.

At this moment, the lady crossed the room, and seating herself by my side, asked, “Would you not like to go and live with me?  I have one waiting maid now, but I wish for another, and if you will go, I will take you and give you good wages.  Your work will not be hard; will you go?” “Where do you go?” I asked.  “To Montreal,” she replied.  “Then I shall not go with you,” said I.  “No money could induce me to return there again.”  “Ah!” said she, with a peculiar smile, “I see how it is, but you need not fear to trust me.  I will protect you, and never suffer you to be taken back to the convent.”  I saw that I had made unconsciously another imprudent revelation, and resolved to say no more.  I was about to leave her, but she drew me back saying, “I will give you some of my clothes, and I can make them fit you so well that no one will ever recognize you.  I shall have plenty of time to alter them if they require it, for the train that I go in, will not he along for about three hours; you can help me, and in that time we will get you nicely fixed.”