‘Hélas, Mademoiselle, it would have been a crime!’ Jeanne exclaimed, beaming all over her face. ‘And to think you should remember me after twelve years! Tiens, but you were always the sweetest little girl in all Brittany.’

‘I missed Brittany too,’ Mistral said softly, then turning towards her Aunt, she added, ‘But oh, Aunt Emilie, it is so exciting to be here, and this house is charming. Why have you never let me visit you before?’

‘It is a long story, Mistral,’ Emilie replied. ‘And there are several other and more important things I want to talk to you about at this moment. Jeanne will fetch your breakfast here and we can talk as you eat.’

‘Oh, that will be lovely!’ Mistral exclaimed as Jeanne hurried from the room. ‘I am glad we can talk. There are such a lot of things I want to know. I am not complaining, you must not think that, I was happy at the Convent, but sometimes I felt lonely. All the other girls seemed to have families and lots of relations. I only had you. You have always been kind to me, but I saw so little of you and not having a home to come to in the holidays made me feel different.’

‘I can understand that,’ Emilie replied, ‘but there were reasons why I could not have you. There is no need to go into them, for things have changed and now we can be together.’

“That is wonderful, Aunt Emilie. If you only knew how happy that makes me. I was sometimes afraid, terribly afraid, that you would never take me away and that I should have to stay at the Convent forever and become a Nun.’

‘You would not have liked that?’ Emilie asked curiously. Mistral shook her head.

‘I knew in my heart of hearts that I had no vocation. I loved the Nuns. No one could help but love and admire them. They were saints most of them and always I used to pray that I would become as good as they were, but all the time something inside me seemed to say that I was not to stay. I wanted to know more about the world outside, I wanted to live a different life. Oh, perhaps I am being silly and you will laugh at me, but I sometimes felt as if voices were calling to me to live more fully, to enjoy the world before I dedicated myself unreservedly to the Service of Heaven.’

Mistral’s voice was soft and almost mystical as she spoke. Emilie, watching her, taking in the sense of what she said, was yet acutely aware of many other things – the almost magnetic quality of the girl’s voice, the soft seduction of her parted lips, the pure unawakened loveliness of her widened eyes, and the emotions which seemed to radiate from her as she spoke.