At all events I was now in kind hands—that was something. I had contrived to send word to my English friends, for that David would do my errand I had not a doubt. I resolved to make the best of present circumstances, to use what time I could call my own in meditation on all I had learned, and if at last I made up my mind definitely that the way of my parents was the true way, to confess my faith without fear of consequences. For it must be remembered that I was still in some sense unsettled in my belief. The arguments of Father Martien would recur to my mind, and I did not always see how to answer them. Still I was struggling toward the shining light at the head of the way, as Mr. John Bunyan hath it in his quaint parable, and the light grew more clear and the ground firmer under my feet at every effort. When the sister came after my supper dishes she was evidently pleased to see that I had appreciated her dainties. "You look better, child," she said kindly. "I am better, thank you, sister," I answered. "I feel much refreshed." "Why, that is well," said she. "The reverend mother says you need not attend the evening service, as you seem so much fatigued with your journey. She advises you to go early to rest, and to-morrow she will see and talk with you, and you shall be introduced to the holy mother who has charge of the expedition." "When does the ship sail?" I ventured to ask, seeing I had guessed rightly. "Some time next week, I believe, but I am not certain. I hope so, I am sure; for these girls turn the house upside down, and I must say that I don't think a marriage brokerage quite the business for nuns. But what am I saying?" and she crossed herself. "No doubt our superiors know best. My unlucky tongue is always getting me into trouble." "Never mind," said I, seeing that she looked rather appealingly at me. "I am no tale-bearer, you may be sure. I dare say the young people are a great trouble, but I will try not to make more than I can help," I added, smiling. "Oh, you-you are a young lady—that is plain to be seen. Where are you from?" "From Normandy," I answered. "My foster-mother lived not very far from Granville." "I have been there," said the nun; "I was in the hospital at Sartilly." How I longed to ask about Lucille, but I dared not do so for fear of inconvenient questions. "And have you ever travelled?" asked the nun, who was called, as she told me, Sister St. Stanislaus. I replied that I had been in England, and had therefore crossed the Channel twice. "And were you ill?" "No, not at all," I answered. "Mother Mary will be glad to hear that, for she Is always ill the whole voyage through. She has made it two or three times. There, I must not stay any longer. I will come in the morning to lead you to the chapel, and afterward to the Superior's apartment, where you will see Mother Mary of the Incarnation. * Then good-night, child. Rest well."