ve at Monsieur Critois'! Oh
no!" And she laughed as she went on--

"He would be telling me every day that we should be very good friends.
He would be saying all day long that it was his desire fully to
discharge his duty to me. I can hardly help shaking off his hand now,
when he strokes my hair: and, if it came to his doing it every morning,
we should certainly quarrel. They say Madame Critois never speaks; so I
suppose she admires his conversation too much to interrupt it. There
she and I should never agree.--Live at my guardian's! Oh no!"

"You were thinking of some other house while I was describing your
guardian's, my dear. What were you thinking of? Where would you live?"

Euphrosyne plucked another twig, having pulled the first to pieces. She
smiled again, blushed, and said she would tell her reverend mother very
soon what home she was thinking of: she could not tell to-day; but in a
little while--

"In the meantime," said the abbess, with a scrutinising gaze,--"in the
meantime, I conclude Father Gabriel knows all that is in your mind."

"You will know in good time what I am thinking of, madam: everybody will
know."

The abbess was troubled.

"This is beginning early," she said, as if thinking aloud; "this is
beginning early with the mysteries and entanglements of life and the
world! How wonderful it is to look on, to be a witness of these things
for two or three successive generations! How every young creature
thinks her case something wholly new--the emotions of her awakened heart
something that God never before witnessed, and that man never conceived
of! After all that has been written about love, upon the cavern walls
of Hindoo temples, and in the hieroglyphics of old Egypt, and printed
over all the mountains and valleys of the world by that deluge which was
sent to quench unhallowed love, every young girl believes in her day
that something unheard-of has happened when the dream has fallen upon
her. My dear child, listen to one who knows more of life than you do--
to one who would have you happy, not only in the next world, but in
this."

"Thank you, reverend mother."

"Love is holy and blessed, my dear, when it comes in its due season--
when it enters into a mind disciplined for new duties, and a heart
waiting for new affections. In one who has no mother to help and
comfort--"

"No mother, it is true," said Euphrosyne.

"The mother is the parent naturally most missed," said the abb