She was next sent to the convent at Georgetown—a school justly celebrated for the elegant women who have been educated there. Miss Lane went over to Washington every month, and spent Saturday and Sunday with her uncle, then Secretary of State. These visits were, of course, delightful. Without seeing any gay society, she always met at Mr. Buchanan’s house such men as few young girls could appreciate, and listened to such conversation as would improve the taste of any one. Miss Lane at once became a great favorite with the sisters, who constantly expressed the highest opinion of her talents and her principles. Before Mr. Buchanan had decided to send her to the convent, he had asked, “Do you think you would become a Roman Catholic?” She was anxious to go, but she answered, “I can’t promise; I don’t know enough about their faith.” “Well,” said he, “if you are a good Catholic, I will be satisfied.” She did not change her religious opinions, but her intercourse with the good sisters has always made her respect the old church, and has taught her sympathy and charity for all God’s people. Here she became very proficient in music, an accomplishment which, unfortunately for her friends, she has much neglected, owing to her constant engagements in social life and her disinclination for display in her public position. The nuns were anxious to have her learn to play upon the harp, not only on account of her musical taste, but because of her graceful person and exquisite hand. For some reason, however, she never took lessons upon that beautiful instrument, so well calculated to display the charms of a graceful woman. Her uncle once asked in a letter what were her favorite studies. She answered, “History, astronomy, and especially mythology.” Mr. Buchanan did not forget this avowed preference, and in after years gratified his natural disposition to quiz those of whom he was fond, by appealing to his niece as authority on mythological questions, in the presence of company before whom she would have preferred to be silent. Miss Lane was exceedingly quick and bright. She never applied her whole mind to study except the last of the two years she spent at Georgetown. The result of that effort was that she won golden opinions and graduated with great honor. She left the school, loved and regretted by the sisters, with some of whom she has been on terms of close friendship ever since. They always speak of her with pride, and have followed her career with an interest they seldom evince in anything outside their sphere of seclusion and quiet.