I felt very important. I was neither sad nor gay, but had just this feeling of importance which was quite enough for me. Everyone at table talked about me. My uncle kept stroking my hair and my cousin from her end of the table threw me kisses. Suddenly my father’s musical voice made me turn toward him. “Listen to me, Sarah,” he said; “if you are very good at the convent I will come in four years and fetch you away, and you shall travel with me and see some beautiful countries.” “Oh, I will be good!” I exclaimed. “I’ll be as good as Aunt Henriette!” This was my Aunt Faure. Everybody smiled. After dinner, the weather being very fine, we all went out to stroll in the park. My father took me with him and talked to me very seriously. He told me things that were sad which I had never heard before. I understood, although I was so young, and my eyes filled with tears. He was sitting on an old bench and I was on his knee with my head resting on his shoulder. I listened to all he said and cried silently, my childish mind disturbed by his words. Poor father! I was never, never to see him again. CHAPTER II I BEGIN MY CONVENT LIFE I did not sleep well that night and the following morning, at eight o’clock, we started by diligence for Versailles. I can see Marie now, in tears, great big girl as she was. All the members of the family were assembled at the top of the stone steps. There was my little trunk and then a wooden case of games which my mother had brought, and a kite that my cousin had made, which he gave me at the last moment just as the carriage was starting. I can still see the large white house, which seemed to get smaller and smaller the farther we drove away from it. I stood up, with my father holding me and waved his blue silk muffler which I had taken from his neck. After this I sat down in the carriage and fell asleep, only rousing up again when we were at the heavy-looking door of the Grandchamps Convent. I rubbed my eyes and tried to collect my thoughts. I then jumped down from the diligence and looked at everything around me. The paving stones of the street were round and small, with grass growing everywhere. There was a wall and then a great gateway surmounted by a cross, and nothing behind it, nothing whatever to be seen. To the left there was a house and to the right the Sartory barracks. Not a sound to be heard, not a footfall, not even an echo. “Oh, mamma!” I exclaimed, “is it inside there I am to go? Oh, no, I would rather go back to Mme. Fressard’s.” My mother shrugged her shoulders and pointed to my father, thus explaining that she was not responsible for this step. I rushed to him, and while ringing the bell, he took me by the hand. The door opened, and he led me gently in, followed by my mother and Aunt Rosine.