days before!" She said so much, that the poor girl, touched with gratitude and shame, enquired, "What was to be done?"
"Go to the convent of the capuchins; ask for the superior, tell him to come here immediately, but to let no one suspect that he comes at my request."
"But what shall I say to the portress, who has never seen me go out, and will ask me where I am going?"
"Endeavour to pass without being seen; and if you cannot, say you are going to some church to perform your orisons."
A new difficulty for Lucy! to tell a falsehood! but the signora was so offended at her refusal, and so ridiculed her for preferring a vain scruple to her gratitude, that the unhappy girl, alarmed rather than convinced, replied, "Well, I will go; may God be my guide and protector."
Gertrude, from her grated window, followed her with anxious looks, and when she saw her about to cross the threshold, overcome by irresistible emotion, she cried, "Stop, Lucy."
Lucy returned to the window; but another idea, the one accustomed to predominate, had resumed its sway over the mind of the unhappy Gertrude. She affected dissatisfaction at the directions she had given; described the road again to Lucy, and dismissed her: "Do exactly as I have told you, and return quickly."
Lucy passed the door of the cloister unobserved, and proceeding on her way with downcast eyes, found, with the aid of the directions given, and her own recollections, the gate of the suburb; timid and trembling, she continued on the high road, until she arrived at that which led to the convent. This road was buried, like the bed of a river, between two high banks, bordered with trees, whose branches united to form an arch above it. On finding it entirely deserted, she felt her fears revive; she hurried on, but gained courage from the sight of a travelling carriage which had stopped a short distance before her; before the door of it, which was open, there stood two travellers looking about, as if uncertain of their way. As she approached, she heard one of them say, "Here is
