CHAPTER IX.

  A CENTURY UNDER A WIMPLE.

  As we are giving details of what was formerly the Little Picpusconvent, and have ventured to let in light upon this discreet asylum,the reader will perhaps permit us another slight digression, which hasnothing to do with the story, but is characteristic and useful in sofar as it proves that a convent can have its original people. Therewas in the little convent a centenarian, who came from the Abbey ofFontevrault, and before the Revolution she had even been in the world.She talked a good deal about M. de Miromesnil, keeper of the sealsunder Louis XVI., and the wife of a President Duplat, who had been agreat friend of hers. It was her pleasure and vanity to drag in thesetwo names on every possible occasion. She told marvels about the Abbeyof Fontevrault, which was like a town, and there were streets in theconvent. She spoke with a Picard accent which amused the boarders;every year she renewed her vows, and at the moment of taking theoath would say to the priest: "Monseigneur St. Francis took it to.Monseigneur St. Julien, Monseigneur St. Julien took it to MonseigneurSt. Eusebius, Monseigneur St. Eusebius took it to Monseigneur St.Procopius, etc., etc., and thus I take it to you, father." And theboarders would laugh, not in their sleeves, but under their veils,--acharming little suppressed laugh, which made the vocal mothers frown.

  At other times the centenarian told anecdotes. She said that in heryouth the Bernardines took precedence of the Musqueteers; it wasa century that spoke, but it was the 18th century. She describedthe Champenois and Burgundian custom of the four wines before theRevolution. When a great personage, a marshal of France, a prince, aduke and peer, passed through a town of Champagne or Burgundy, theauthorities addressed and presented him with four silver cups filledwith four different sorts of wine. On the first cup was the inscription"ape-wine," on the second "lion-wine," on the third "sheep-wine," andon the fourth "hog-wine." These four mottoes expressed the four stagesof intoxication,--the first that enlivens, the second that irritates,the third that dulls, and the fourth that brutalizes.

  She had a mysterious object, to which she was greatly attached, lockedup in a cupboard, and the rule of Fontevrault did not prohibit this.She would not show it to anybody; she locked herself in, which herrule also permitted, and hid herself each time that a desire wasexpressed to see it. If she heard footsteps in the passage she closedthe cupboard as hastily as she could with her aged hands. So soon as itwas alluded to, she, who was so fond of talking, held her tongue; themost curious persons were foiled by her silence, and the most tenaciousby her obstinacy. This was a subject of comment for all the idlersand gossips in the convent. What could this precious and hidden thingbe which was the centenarian's treasure? Of course some pious book orunique rosary, or well-tried relic. On the poor woman's death they ranto the cupboard, more quickly perhaps than was befitting, and openedit. They found the object under three folds of linen; it was a Faenzaplate representing Cupids flying away, and pursued by apothecaries'apprentices armed with enormous squirts. The pursuit is full of comicalgrimaces and postures; one of the charming little Cupids is alreadyimpaled; he writhes, flutters his wings, and strives to fly away,but the assassin laughs a Satanic laugh. Moral,--love conquered by acolic. This plate, which is very curious, and perhaps had the honor offurnishing Molière with an idea, still existed in September, 1845; itwas for sale at a curiosity shop on the Boulevard Beaumarchais. Thisgood old woman would not receive any visitors, "because," as she said,"the parlor is too melancholy."