"My dear daughters, if it be, indeed, Sister Amelie whom you think the most worthy and most deserving of you all,--if it be she whom you recognise as your spiritual superior, let each of you reply to me in turn, my dear daughters." And each nun replied in a clear voice: "Freely and voluntarily I have chosen, and I do choose, Sister Amelie for my holy mother and superior." Overcome by inexpressible emotion, my poor child fell on her knees, clasped her hands, and remained so until each vote was declared. Then the abbess, placing the crozier and the ring in the hands of the grand prioress, advanced towards my daughter to take her hand and conduct her to the abbatial seat. "Rise, my dear daughter," said the abbess; "come and assume the place that belongs to you. Your virtues, and not your rank, have obtained for you the position you have gained." Fleur-de-Marie, trembling, advanced a few steps, and said: "Pardon me, holy mother, but I would speak to my sisters." "Then first place yourself, my dear child, in your abbatial seat," said the princess; "it is from thence your voice shall be heard." "That place, holy mother, never can be mine!" replied Fleur-de-Marie, in a low and tremulous voice. "What mean you, my dear daughter?" "So high a dignity was not made for me, holy mother." "But the wishes of all your sisters call you to it." "Permit me, holy mother, to make here, on my knees, a solemn confession; and my sisters will see, and you, also, holy mother, that the humblest condition is not humble enough for me." "This arises from your modesty, my dear child," said the superior, with kindness, believing that the unhappy girl was giving way to a feeling of overdelicacy. But I divined the confession Fleur-de-Marie was about to make, and, greatly alarmed, I exclaimed, in a voice of entreaty: "My child, I conjure thee--" It is impossible, my dearest Clemence, to describe the look which Fleur-de-Marie gave me. In an instant she understood all, and saw how deeply I should share in the shame of this horrible revelation. She comprehended that after such a confession they might accuse me of falsehood, for I had always made it out that Fleur-de-Marie had never left her mother. At this reflection the poor dear child thought she would be guilty of the blackest ingratitude towards me; she had not power to continue, but bowed down her head, overcome--overwhelmed.