“Dear! dear!” exclaimed the anxious Miss Chutney, “how mysterious he is. What ever is he going to do! If it wasn’t for the dress of the Sister of Charity, I’m sure I should never consent to do what he asks me; but everybody tells me I look well in black, and I _do_ think the costume of those dear good creatures is so interesting, and, what’s more, so very becoming to persons of a dark complexion.” Then she thought it would be a good bit of fun, and how the other girls in her class would laugh over it when they came to hear of it; besides, she assured herself nobody could kill her for doing it: and she seemed to derive no little consolation from the assurance. But why was she dressed up in such an odd way? that was what she wanted to know; and though Miss Chutney amused herself by framing many reasons for the masquerading, none, upon reflection, seemed sufficient to account for the strange proposal. The remainder of the evening she passed in considerable suspense, anxious for the arrival of Miss Wewitz to conduct her to her bed-room—for she was longing to make her first appearance as a Sister of Charity; and to while away the time, she kept turning back her hair, and making a cap of a pocket-handkerchief, by way of trying how her new costume would suit her. Nor did Miss Chutney utter one word to Miss Wewitz when that lady unlocked the door, previous to escorting her to her bed-chamber; for the girl had now made up her mind to quit the house, if possible, before the coming of her guardian, and was desirous of strictly fulfilling the instructions of the Count. The schoolmistress, who was growing alarmed at what appeared to her the extraordinary firmness of the young lady, but nevertheless, too proud to think for one moment of giving way to her, as she descended the stairs did not forget to tell Miss Chutney that, on the morrow, her guardian would take her under _his_ care. On being left alone, the first act of Miss Chutney was to lock the door, and look between the mattresses for the promised dress, and, to her great delight, there it was, rosary and all. She was not long in exchanging her own for that of the _“chère sœur”_ and as she put on each fresh portion of the costume, she stood for several minutes before the _cheval_ glass, examining the effect of it, and laughing to herself at the novel appearance it gave her; and when she had finally arranged the cap and veil, she placed the candle on the ground, the better to see herself from head to foot, remaining no little time in front of the glass, now kneeling down and crossing her hands upon her bosom, and now telling her beads, with upturned eyes, with all the affectation of excessive devotion.