e to mock the hungry and weary, the despairing,
the penniless.

The girl looked up into the kind, rather sad features framed by the
white linen head-dress, and tried to speak. She endeavoured to reply,
but so weak was she after a whole day and night without food, that she
suddenly fainted.

It was some time before she recovered consciousness, but as soon as she
was sufficiently calm she gave them a brief account of what had
happened. She said nothing about her husband's latest exploit, but
merely told them how she had left him because of his neglect and
brutality, combined with the fact that she had made the astounding
discovery that he was a thief.

They sat beside her, listening attentively to her story, and expressing
the deepest sympathy.

Then, after a quarter of an hour's conversation, the two sisters agreed
that they could not leave her there alone, and suggested that she should
accompany them to the convent, situated a few kilometres out of Paris,
close to Enghien.

So, after taking her to a small restaurant near and giving her some
food, they took a taxi to the Gare du Nord, and half an hour later
entered the big convent of the Order, a grey, inartistic, but spacious
place, with large shady gardens at the rear, sloping down to the Lake of
Enghien.

In the heavy door was a small grille, and when one of the sisters rang
the clanging bell a woman's face peered forth at them with curiosity
before admitting them.

Jean, in her weak, nervous state, had visions of long, stone corridors,
of ghostly figures in black habits and white caps moving noiselessly,
and of a peace and silence entirely strange to her. Inside, no one
spoke. Save those conducting her to the rooms of the Mother Superior,
all were mute.

On every wall was a crucifix, and at each corner in a small niche stood
a statue of the Holy Virgin.

They passed by the fine chapel, and Jean saw the long, stained-glass
windows, the rows of empty chairs, and the Roman Catholic altar, the
burning candles reflecting upon the burnished gilt, and the arum lilies
in the big brass vases on either side.

At last, shown into a large bare room, the walls of which were panelled
half-way up--a room bare, austere, and comfortless, with an utter lack
of any attempt at decoration--Jean sank into a big leather-covered
arm-chair, and one of the sisters took the old black shawl from her
shoulders.

A few minutes later there entered an elderly, stately woman, with ha