Amabel and I saw him arrive from the window of the deserted oratory, where we often sat with our work. He was a little withered-looking man, richly dressed, and with a good deal of personal dignity. He was accompanied by his nephew and heir, a dissipated-looking young man, and a number of sufficiently insolent-looking lackeys. The young man staid outside talking with one of the servants. The count was received with great ceremony in the parlor, and was invited to visit the holy relics in the church, but declined, excusing himself on the ground of want of time. He was closeted for a long time with Mother Superior and Mother Prudentia, whom I ought to call Mother Assistant, since she had been elected to that place immediately after Mother Benedict's death. Meantime, wine and other refreshments were sent out to the young count and the servants, who made themselves very merry. The old gentleman departed at last evidently in a very bad humor; for he swore furiously at the groom when he mounted his horse, and spurred the poor beast till it bolted and nearly threw him. I saw the servants laughing among themselves as they rode away. Later in the day, a covered litter, with two or three mounted servants and a female attendant, was brought to the gate, and Desireè was carried away. I was in the little chamber over the porch and saw her go. Her dress had been changed, and she wore neither veil nor rosary. She looked pale enough but not at all scared; just as she entered the litter, she turned and shook her hand at the house with such an expression of malice as I never saw before. She was then carried away and I have never seen her since. I was dying with curiosity, but I knew better than to ask any questions, which was indeed counted a great misdemeanor among us. I was pretty sure I should have the tale from Mother Prudentia the first time we were alone together; opportunity was not likely to be wanting, for I was her regular assistant in the dairy and still-room, and it was not long before the whole came out. "You see, child, the Count de Crequi put his step-daughter here, thinking to have made a nun of her, and so provide for her at less expense than it would have taken to marry her. I fancy, too, he did not care to have her in the way of his nephew. He is still set on his scheme, and even offered Mother Superior the choice of a double dowry with Desireè, or the withdrawal of his protection altogether. The worst is that this new Bishop is related to Desireè's mother." "What harm should that do?" I asked in wonder! "Surely the Bishop would not wish Desireè to be received after such a scandal, and when she has no vocation!" "Oh my child, as to that—the Bishop is the Bishop of course—but you can see that it happened very unluckily, because we are in disgrace already, having never accepted the Pope's bull about Jansenius and the five propositions." "What were the five propositions about?" I asked.