"Fal lal!--that is--I beg your pardon, Mother, but I wish to see the lady immediately. Can I do so?"
"The dear sister Theresa is at present making her retreat, preparatory to taking the black veil."
"The what!" exclaimed Cloudy, with as much horror as if it had been the "black dose" she was going to take.
"The black veil--and so she cannot be seen."
"Madam, I have a very pressing form of invitation here, which people are not very apt to disregard. Did you ever hear of a subpoena, dear Mother?"
The good woman never had, but she thought it evidently something "uncanny," for she said, "I will send for the Abbess;" and she beckoned to a nun within, and sent her on the errand--and soon the Abbess appeared, and Cloudy made known the object of his visit.
"Go into the parlor, sir, and Sister Theresa will attend you," said that lady.
And Cloudy turned to a side door on his right hand, and went into the little receiving-room, three sides of which were like other rooms, but the fourth side was a grating instead of a wall. Behind this grating appeared Jacquelina--so white and thin with confinement, fasting and vigil, and so disguised by her nun's dress as to be unrecognizable to any but a lover's eyes: with her was the Abbess.
Cloudy went up to the grating. Jacquelina put her hand through, and spoke a kind greeting; but Cloudy glanced at the Abbess, looked reproachfully at Jacquelina, and then turning to the former, said:
"Madam, I wish to say a few words in confidence to my cousin here. Can I be permitted to do so?"
"Most certainly, young gentleman; Sister Theresa is not restricted. It was at her own request that I attended her hither."
"Thank you, dear lady--that which I have to say to--Sister Theresa--involves the confidence of others: else I should not have made the request that you have so kindly granted," said Cloudy, considerably mollified.
The Abbess curtsied in the old stately way, and retired.
Cloudy looked at Jacquelina reproachfully.
"Yes. Oh, Cloudy, Cloudy! what do you come here to disturb my thoughts so for? Oh, Cloudy! every time you come to see me, you do so upset and confuse my mind! You have no idea how many aves and paters, and psalms and litanies I have to say before I can quiet my mind down again! And now this is worse than all. Dear, dear Cloudy!--St. Mary, forgive me, I never meant that--I meant plain Cloudy--see how you make me sin in words! What did you send Mother Ettienne away for?"