I was too young to realize the sad change in my situation, or to anticipate the trials and privations that awaited me.  But I was deeply grieved thus to leave my father, my only real friend, my mother being dead, and my grandfather a heretic, whom I had been taught to regard with the utmost abhorrence.  Little, however, did I think that this was a last farewell.  But such it was.  Though he had promised to come often to see me, I never saw my father again; never even heard from him; and now, I do not know whether he is dead or alive.

CHAPTER II.

The white nunnery.

On my arrival at the nunnery, I was placed under the care of a lady whom they called a Superior.  She took me into a room alone, and told me that the priest would come to me in the morning to hear confession, and I must confess to him all my sins.  “What are sins?” I asked, and, “How shall I confess?  I don’t know what it means.”  “Don’t know what sins are!” she exclaimed in great astonishment “Why, child, I am surprised that you should be so ignorant!  Where have you lived all your days?” With all the simplicity of childhood, I replied, “With my father; and once I lived with my grandfather; but they didn’t tell me how to confess.”  “Well,” said she, “you must tell the priest all your wicked thoughts, words, and actions.”  “What is wicked?” I innocently asked.  “If you have ever told an untruth;” she replied, “or taken what did not belong to you, or been in any way naughty, disobedient, or unkind; if you have been angry, or quarrelled with your playmates, that was wicked, and you must tell the priest all about it If you try to conceal, or keep back anything, the priest will know it and punish you.  You cannot deceive him if you try, for he knows all you do, or say, or even think; and if you attempt it, you’ll only get yourself into trouble.  But if you are resolved to be a good girl, kind, gentle, frank, sincere, and obedient, the priest will love you, and be kind to you.”

When I was conducted to my room, at bedtime, I rejoiced to find in it several little cot beds, occupied by little girls about my own age, who had been, like myself, consigned to the tender mercies of priests and nuns.  I thought if we must live in that great gloomy house, which even to my childish imagination seemed so much like a prison, we could in some degree dispel our loneliness and mitigate our sorrows, by companionship and sympathy.  But I was soon made to know that even this small comfort would not be allowed us, for the Superior, as she assisted me to bed, told me that I must not speak, or groan, or turn upon my side, or move in any way; for if I made the least noise or disturbance, I would be severely punished.  She assured me that if we disobeyed in the least particular, she would know it, even if she was not present, and deal with us accordingly.  She said that when the clock struck twelve, the bell would ring for prayers; that we must then rise, and kneel with our heads bowed upon the bed, and repeat the prayer she taught us.  When, at length, she left us, locking the door after her, I was so frightened, I did not dare to sleep, lest I should move, or fail to awake at the proper time.