rselves; we forget ourselves, and we have found a way to
substitute another life for our lives. It is because, after hearing your
confidence at Monsieur Mongenod's, I thought there seemed a likeness
between your situation and ours, that I induced my four friends to
receive you among us; besides, we wanted another monk in our convent.
But what are you going to do? No one can face solitude without some
moral resources."

"Madame, I should be very glad, after hearing what you have said, if you
yourself would be the guide of my destiny."

"You speak like a man of the world," she answered, "and are trying to
flatter me,--a woman of sixty! My dear child," she went on, "let me tell
you that you are here among persons who believe strongly in God; who
have all felt his hand, and have yielded themselves to him almost as
though they were Trappists. Have you ever remarked the profound sense of
safety in a true priest when he has given himself to the Lord, when he
listens to his voice, and strives to make himself a docile instrument in
the hand of Providence? He has no longer vanity or self-love,--nothing
of all that which wounds continually the hearts of the world. His
quietude is equal to that of the fatalist; his resignation does truly
enable him to bear all. The true priest, such a one as the Abbe de Veze,
lives like a child with its mother; for the Church, my dear Monsieur
Godefroid, is a good mother. Well, a man can be a priest without the
tonsure; all priests are not in orders. To vow one's self to good, that
is imitating a true priest; it is obedience to God. I am not preaching
to you; I am not trying to convert you; I am explaining our lives to
you."

"Instruct me, madame," said Godefroid, deeply impressed, "so that I may
not fail in any of your rules."

"That would be hard upon you; you will learn them by degrees. Never
speak here of your misfortunes; they are slight compared to the
catastrophes by which the lives of those you are now among were
blasted."

While speaking thus, Madame de la Chanterie drew her needle and let her
stitches with unbroken regularity; but here she paused, raised her
head, and looked at Godefroid. She saw him charmed by the penetrating
sweetness of her voice, which possessed, let us say it here, an
apostolic unction. The sick soul contemplated with admiration the truly
extraordinary phenomenon presented by this woman, whose face was now
resplendent. Rosy tints were spreading on the waxen che