there seems but a heap of dark drapery on the ground, but it quivers convulsively.

The pealing organ, and the chorus of cold sad voices, drown the sobs, but under the black shroud there throbs the human heart, as if that heart would break.

After the Te Deum has been sung, the Bishop delivers an address, in an earnest and eloquent manner, summing up the duties the veil imposes, and praying for Heaven's holiest blessing on this day's offering. The two devoted ones rise, walk slowly to the first nun, make a lowly obeisance, then kiss her forehead, and so on with all in succession; each, as she receives the new comer's greeting, saying:Welcome, sister."

Then, by the same door by which they had entered, they go out two and two, the youngest last, and we see them no more.

Farewell, sister!

I have since been told the supposed cause of the last of these two novices taking the veil: though it is but a common-place story, it is not without interest to me, who saw her face that day. If you care to know it, it is as follows. Her father was a

merchant of English descent.

Her mother, a

French-Canadian, had died many years previously, leaving her and two younger daughters, who were

brought up in the Roman Catholic religion. She devoted all her time and interest to give her little sisters whatever of accomplishments and education she had herself been able to attain. Her face was very pleasing, though not beautiful; her figure light and graceful; and she possessed that winning charm of manner with which her mother's race is so richly gifted.

Her father was occupied all day long with his business; when he returned home of an evening, it was only to sleep in an old arm-chair by the fireside. She had no companions, and was too much busied with her teaching, and household affairs, to mix much in the gaieties of the adjoining town, but she was always sought for; besides her good, kind heart, winning ways, and cheerful spirit, an aunt of her father's had left her a little fortune, and she was looked on quite as an heiress in the neighbourhood. The young gentlemen always tried to appear to their greatest advantage in her presence, and to make themselves as agreeable as possible. She was, perhaps, the least degree spoilt by this, and sometimes tossed her little head, and shook her long black ringlets quite haughtily; but every one that knew her, high and low, liked her in spite of that, and she deserved it.

About four years ago, at a small party given by one of her friends, she met, among other guests, the officers of the Infantry regiment quartered in the neighbourhood. All were acquaintances except one, who had only a few days before arrived from England. He did not seem inclined to enter into the gaieties of the evening, and did not dance till near the close, when he got introduced to her. As soon as the set was over, he sat talking with her for a little time, and then took his leave of the party. She was flattered at being the only person whose acquaintance the new-comer had sought, and struck by the peculiarity of his manner and conversation. A day or two afterwards he called at her house; she was at home, and alone. A couple of hours passed quickly away, and, when they bid good evening, she was surprised to find it was so late. After that day the acquaintance progressed rapidly.

He was about six or seven-and-twenty years of age, the only son of a northern squire, of considerable estate, but utterly ruined fortunes. His father had, however, always managed to conceal the state of affairs from him till a few months previously, when an accidental circumstance caused it to reach his ears. Without his father's knowledge,

he at once exchanged from the regiment of Hussars in which he then was, to an Infantry corps, met the most pressing claims with the few thousand pounds this sacrifice placed at his disposal, and went home for a few days to take leave of his parents before joining his new regiment in Canada. At first they were inconsolable at the idea of parting with him, even for this short time; for all their love, and pride, and hope, were centered in their son, and he, in return, was devotedly attached to them. Soon, however, they were persuaded of the wisdom of what he had done; and, deeply gratified by this proof of his affection, with many an earnest blessing they bade him farewell.

Of an ancient and honoured family, he bore the stamp of gentle birth on every limb and feature. His mind was strong, clear, and highly cultivated; his polished manner only sufficiently cold and reserved to make its relaxation the more pleasing. In early life he had joined in the wild pursuits, and even faults, which indulgent custom tolerates in the favoured classes; but still, through all, retained an almost feminine refinement and sensibility, and a generous unselfishness, sad to say, so seldom united with the hard but useful knowledge of the world. Though rather of a silent habit, whenever

he spoke, his conversation was always interesting, often brilliant. Such was her new acquaintance.

Poor child, in her short life she had never seen any one like him before: she was proud and happy that he noticed her; he, so much older than herself, so stately and thoughtful, and he spoke so beautifully. She was rather afraid of him at first, but that soon wore away; she fancied that she was growing wiser and more like him; she knew she was growing nearer, nearer; fear brightened into admiration, admiration warmed into love. Without a mother, or grown-up sister, or intimate friend to tell this to, she kept it all to herself, and it grew a stronger and greater tyrant every day, and she a more submissive slave. He now called at the house very often, and whenever there was a country driving party, he was her companion; in the ballroom, or riding, or walking, they were constantly together: it was the custom of the country-no one thought it strange.

So passed away the winter: in summer the regiment was to return to England, but he had become much attached to the simple Canadian girl. Her confidence in him, her undisguised preference, joined with a purity that could not be mistaken, won upon him irresistibly. He saw that

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