CHAPTER X.
Out of the Convent.
"I think you might very well come down to vespers to-night,
_mon enfant_," said Soeur Lucie one evening about a week later.
"To-night!" said Madelon, starting.
"Yes; why not? You are quite well and strong enough now, and
we must set to work again. I think you have been idle long
enough, and we can't begin better than by your coming to
chapel this evening."
Madelon was silent and dismayed. Ever since she had found the
money her project of flight had become a question of time
only, and it was precisely this hour of vespers she had fixed
on as the only one possible for her escape: the nuns would all
be in the chapel, and, once outside the convent, the
increasing darkness would favour her.
"Ah, not to-night, Soeur Lucie, please," she said, in a
faltering voice; "I--I am tired--I have been in the garden all
the afternoon;--that is, I am not tired; but I don't want to
come down to-night."
"Well, I will let you off this one evening," said Soeur Lucie,
good-naturedly; "though you used to be fond of coming to
vespers, and certainly I don't think you can be very tired
with sitting in the garden.
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