Thus saying, Beatrice of Ferrara took her hand, and led her through the same passage by which she herself had entered, to a room wherein she had lain concealed during the time that the other apartments were occupied by the party assembled for that sad bridal. There, on one of the old oaken chairs, lay the robes of a young abbé in complete costume; not such as that costume appeared in after years, when the gradual blending of the dress of different orders permitted the aspirants to ecclesiastical stations to assume habiliments only distinguished from those of the laity by colour; but full, ample, and flowing, and offering to Eugenie that modest concealment for her fair form, to which even she, under existing circumstances, could not object. Deeply sensible of the kind and delicate appreciation of all her feelings, which Beatrice--whose wilder and more daring nature scoffed at such scruples in her own instance--had displayed in this choice of her disguise, Eugenie was eagerly thanking her for all her consideration; but her friend cut her short, to hasten her new and unusual toilet, taking care, however, as indeed she had hitherto done, to avoid, even by any eager hurry, alarming her more timid companion in the outset of their perilous undertaking. The dress, chosen by an experienced eye, fitted admirably in every respect, with the exception of the shoes, which were far too large for Eugenie's small feet. The robe, however, was sufficiently long to conceal this defect, in a great degree; and, when all was complete, Beatrice gazed over the changed appearance of her fair friend with a smile of gay satisfaction. "Well, Eugenie," she exclaimed, "certainly you are the prettiest little abbé that ever was seen; but, nevertheless, you will do admirably. Only remember not to uncover your head, for your ringlets will betray you. See how I manage mine! I can pull off my hat without fear; cannot you do the same? Only cut off those two lower curls at the side; they will grow again in a month." "I will cut them off altogether, with all my heart," answered Eugenie. But her friend assured her that such a sacrifice of her bright locks was not necessary; and showing her how she herself contrived to conceal in one mass her own profusion of dark hair, she soon put that of Mademoiselle de Menancourt into the same form, but still bade her uncover her head as little as possible, lest the want of all tonsure should call attention, and betray her disguise. "And now, Eugenie, take some refreshment," said Beatrice; "meat to give you strength,--for you may have far to walk ere morning--and wine to give you courage; for, after all, I doubt the resolution of that little heart; and depend upon it, that the only sure means of carrying through a great undertaking is to begin boldly, and go on without stopping. But I hear your girl, Caroline, in the other room; she had better bring the refreshments in here, lest we should be interrupted."