'The priest, Mr. O'Hara, is a
good-natured old gentleman, not in the least disposed to trouble
himself about my conversion.'
'And the sisters?'
'Good old ladies, they have always been very kind to me, and petted
me exceedingly when I was a little child, but for the rest--' still
seeing Albinia's anxious look--'Oh! they would not think of it; I
don't believe they could argue; they are not like the new-fashioned
Roman Catholics of whom you are thinking, madame.'
'And are there no enthusiastic young novices?'
'I should think no one would ever be a novice there,' said Genevieve.
'You seem to be bent on destroying all the romance of convents,
Genevieve!'
'I never thought of anything romantic connected with the reverend
mothers,' rejoined Genevieve, 'and yet when I recollect how they came
to Hadminster, I think you will be interested. You know the family
at Hadminster Hall in the last century were Roman Catholics, and a
daughter had professed at a convent in France. At the time of the
revolution, her brother, the esquire, wrote to offer her an asylum at
his house. The day of her arrival was fixed--behold! a stage-coach
draws up to the door--black veils inside--black veils clustered on
the roof--a black veil beside the coachman, on the box--eighteen nuns
alight, and the poor old infirm abbess is lifted out. They had not
even figured to themselves that the invitation could be to one
without the whole sisterhood!'
'And what did the esquire do with the good ladies?'
'He took them as a gift from Providence, he raised a subscription
among his friends, and they were lodged in the house at Hadminster,
where something like a sisterhood had striven to exist ever since the
days of James II.
Pages:
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362