Daily evening star. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1852-1854, 1854-01-20

the dim light she could see the nun
clustering together on the staircase t.
catch glimpse Of the newcomer. TIL,
superior, whom she described as a yer,
charming woman, received her not onl,
with kindness, but affection, confdin,
her to the care of one Of the nuns VIII,
could speak few words of English.
Tn the following day, her duties com.
menced. She was forcibly impressed with
the admirable system of education, thu
industry and superior knowledge of tn,
children. On giving lecture on English
it was no uncommon thing for girl o.
eleven years of age to stand mp and argue
with her, saying" Allow me, Miss
liamilton-that rule is quite contrary tc
the German" She liked her new life
and made many friends amongst the Ger
man ladies, whose habit it was to bring
their work and sit with tie nuns duriuc
the afternoon.
On tie first examination Of her pupils
An important day in the convent-Miss
Hamilton, who still wore her own cos.
tune, had dressed herself very carefully
completing her toilet with pair of close
fitting primrose-colored gloves. The
superior wished to see her; smiled, and
said she would supply her with a more
appropriate covering for her hands, a. the
same time presenting her with O large
awkward pair of black kid, in exchange
for her own. Miss Hamilton put them on
and retired; but the really good d-natured
superior recalled her, saying see YOU
are disappointed. Put on your own
gloves again We pardon the vanity for
once"
True to her intention, she commenced
her novitiate, and, as it drew to a termi-
ton, these. were her words: Z" NV dear
friend-I have a hungry longing e. NV
profession-day-that day W which Shall sep
arate me forever from the most of the
things OF time; not from the correspond
ence of my friends, but from the false
pleasures of a trcacherous world" ]
could not but regret tbis-a young crca.
ture, not yet eighteen; and then the
clipping Oft of those luxuriant tresses,
which l had so often cnvied her. How
ever, it was decided, and my friend took
the veil. | occasionally received letters,
all breathing the most pious feelings, and
prayers for my being brought into the
true path, and joining her in her seclu-
sion.
An unusual long silence made me fear
that she had sunk under her somewhat
dropping health, when letter arriyed-a
communication indeed to wonder at.
The substance of it was this: She was
alone with the superior and her confessor
one evening, when two priests were in
troduced, who brought message from a
convent in England. Sister La, ine-so
my friend was now called-at the su-
perlor request, remained, merelyretiring
In meditation" to recess of the apart
ment. There was something in the voice
of one of the priests singularly sad; it
seemed to command her attention. She
fancied she recollected the sound-she
must have met the priest in England, she
would look up and recognise him. She
did so, and in the tall, thin. pale man.
she knew her husband. The superior
and her cOnfessor were acquainted with
her story, and gave no small share of
sympathy to the painful scene which en-
sued. What had been reported as sud-
den death, it appeared, was paralysis.
which, after a period of funconsciousness,
prostrated the poor sufferer helplessly on
a bed of sickness for three years. Life
was a burden could he be so selfish as
to share that burden with the poor girl
he had-sinfully perhapS-persuadcd to
a secret marriage-and who, from the
false statement in the newspapers which
confirmed the report, must think him dead?
AT length, he slowly recovered, and
went to Ireland to seek out the old Or es
for news of his young and spotless bride
The priest was dead. He knew the adj
dress of her father: to him he applied.
and received the information that a letter
had arrived from his daughter some time
previously, bidding him farewell, pre-
paratory to her taking the veil, but in
what convent she would not reveal. This
ended all hope, and from that moment he
devoted himself to religious life; and
now. by mere accident, accompanying
his fellow priest to the convent, he was
on his way to join severe and seIEdeny-
ing brotherhood of monks.
These were the incidents with which I
became acquainted in the life of this nun.
and though the popularity of the cir
cumstances might have warranted a re
nunciation of her vows, her destiny was
YVES to be the bride of heaven: for, in tha,
one eventful interview, the long-parted
took leave of each other forever in this
world. The trial, she said, had been
hard one, but only befitting penance
for having sweryed from the direct path
of sincerity; and her concluding words
were-s'Remember that the result of dis
stimulation is surely sorrow."