"Yes, of course; you always know best, dear sister," answered the other lady. "Let her rest, and have a good supper." "Stay where you are, child. There, sit down, and I will come to you presently," said the mother assistant, as I found she was. I was very glad indeed to take a chair, and I remained alone for some minutes thinking over what I had heard, and puzzling myself to no purpose over the hints as to colonists and a new country which the Superior had thrown out. Before I had arrived at any conclusion, the mother assistant appeared at another door from the one I had entered, and bade me follow her. She conducted me along a gallery and to a cell, small indeed but clean, and by no means uncomfortable. "You can remain here for this night, and I will send you some supper," said she. "To-morrow you will be introduced to your companions, and to the sisters who will have charge of you all. The vessel will not sail for several days, so you will have time to get well rested." And she departed, leaving me more puzzled than ever. I found a small mail in my cell, and was glad to discover therein some changes of raiment, all very plain, and even coarse. There were also some books of devotion, a rosary, and a purse containing a small sum of money, besides a considerable package of biscuits, dried fruit, and comfits, which had evidently been thrust in after the mail was packed, probably by Susanne. I changed my travelling-dress, bathed my face, and brushed the dust out of my hair. I would have given almost anything to open my Testament, but this I dared not do. I had hardly made myself ready when a nun entered with my supper, which was good, and arranged with neatness. There was even a cup of chocolate. The dishes were set out on my little table, and the nun, bidding me take my chocolate while it was fresh, departed and closed the door. Then indeed I did venture to draw forth my precious Gospel and read a few words—only a few—but they were like manna in the desert. "And while he was yet a great way off, his father saw him." That was all. It brought the whole to my mind. I was the prodigal who had left my father's house and wasted my substance, and now I was brought to the husks indeed. What could I do but to act like the poor spendthrift—arise and go to my father? I heard a step in the gallery, and thrust my book into my bosom. The step passed, but I dared not take it out again just then; and, sitting down, I ate my supper with a good appetite. "They mean to try what kindness can do in the first place," I mused. "I dare say the good sister thought these sugared apricots would be so many irresistible arguments. But what could she mean by what she said about colonists and a new country?" All at once the explanation flashed across me with the force of certainty. I was to be sent out to Canada. To make my meaning plain I must relate a little bit of history.