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 who occasionally attended me, appeared to compassionate my situation. She shrugged her shoulders, shook her head, and calling me poor child, gave such indications of pity, that I ventured one day to complain of the cruel deception that had brought me there.

"Have you any friends," asked she, in a low voice, as if fearful of being heard.—"I believe," I replied, 'that I have a father, but I know not in what place he resides."—"That's bad, indeed," said she.—"If, however, you can write to any friend, I will find means to get your letter conveyed; the porteress is my aunt; she will not refuse to pass a letter of mine to a relation in the city, and she shall forward one for you." It instantly occurred to me to write to the relation of the Abbe, give her an account of my being forced into a convent, and enclose a letter of information to my father. As it was most probable he would either write or come there, when he had the power of being absent from his duty. I eagerly accepted her good offices, and promised to have my