In a convent, you understand, one is like a servant, even if one is a lady. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. Descending the hollow, or rather excavation,—for it was an old disused clay-pit, at the bottom of which the cottage was situated,—he speedily succeeded in arousing the ancient sibyl, and having committed Edgeworth Bess to her care, with a promise of an abundant reward in case she watched diligently over her safety, and attended to her comforts till his return,—to all which Black Mary readily agreed,—he departed with a heart lightened of half its load. “Put her in the trunk. I wonder. I must have something in hand. Rather would I have gone with Leonardo—and he wished me to do so.
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