lips came an indubitable smile when I leaped back from her in horror at the thought.
“There would be none here to throw her troubles in her teeth,” pursued the Mother Superior, smiling still. “None to remind her of her mother’s shame; none to lay snares for her; none to remind her of the beauty which has brought so much woe on her; no men to disturb her life with their angry conflicting passions. Does not the picture attract you, Mr. Aycon?”
“As a picture,” said I, “it is almost perfect. There is but one blemish in it.”
“A blemish? I do not perceive it.”
“Why, madame, I cannot find anywhere in your canvas the figure of myself.”
With a laugh she turned away and passed through the arched gateway. And I saw my friend, the little nun who had first opened the door to me when I came seeking the duchess, pass by and pause a moment to look at me. Then I was left alone till Marie came to me through the gateway: and I sprang up to meet her.
I have been candid throughout, and I will be candid now—even though my plain speaking strikes not at myself, but at Marie, who must forgive me as best she may. For I believe she meant to marry me from the very first; and I doubt whether if I had taken the dismissal she gave, I should have been allowed to go far on my solitary way. Indeed I think she did but want to hear me say how that all she urged was lighter than a feather against my love for
