intelligent and interesting child, though he was still painfully like
M. de Talbrun, was always with them in the coupe, kindhearted Giselle
thinking that nothing could be so likely to assuage grief as the prattle
of a child. She was astonished--she was touched to the heart, by what
she called naively the conversion of Jacqueline. It was true that the
young girl had no longer any whims or caprices. All the nuns seemed to
her amiable, her lodging was all she needed, her food was excellent; her
lessons gave her amusement. Possibly the excitement of the entire change
had much to do at first with this philosophy, and in fact at the end of
six months Jacqueline owned that she was growing tired of dining at the
table d'hote.

There was a little knot of crooked old ladies who were righteous
overmuch, and several sour old maids whose only occupation seemed to
be to make remarks on any person who had anything different in dress,
manners, or appearance from what they considered the type of the
becoming. If it is not good that man should live alone, it is equally
true that women should not live together. Jacqueline found this out as
soon as her powers of observation came back to her. And about the
same time she discovered that she was not so free as she had flattered
herself she should be. The appearance of a lady, fair and with light
hair, very pretty and about her own age, gave her for the first time an
inclination to talk at table. She and this young woman met twice a day
at their meals, in the morning and in the evening; their rooms were
next each other, and at night Jacqueline could hear her through the thin
partition giving utterance to sighs, which showed that she was unhappy.
Several times, too, she came upon her in the garden looking earnestly
at a place where the wall had been broken, a spot whence it was said a
Spanish countess had been carried off by a bold adventurer. Jacqueline
thought there must be something romantic in the history of this
newcomer, and would have liked exceedingly to know what it might be.
As a prelude to acquaintance, she offered the young stranger some holy
water when they met in the chapel, a bow and a smile were interchanged,
their fingers touched. They seemed almost friends. After this,
Jacqueline contrived to change her seat at table to one next to this
unknown person, so prettily dressed, with her hair so nicely arranged,
and, though her expression was very sad, with a smile so very winning.