I shook my head. “We don't know what may happen this afternoon or tomorrow morning. If we are discovered here, we shall never see the Convent of St. Claire, or any other place of refuge.” I gathered up my jacket and walked to the door. “There is plenty of time left today, so while I go and hire a coach, why don't you lay out suitable apparel for me.''

“You are right, Auguste, or rather Augustine, as I must now call you,” Mother said. “Go quickly.”

I lost no time in getting a conveyance, the driver of which I knew I could depend upon. And upon my return in twenty minutes with my mother's assistance, I was completely metamorphosed from a handsome youth into a tall, bold-looking, but still not unattractive girl. Of course, there remained one important physical difference. We packed up my mother's jewelry and some of our most valuable attire and prepared for the street. We had previously given my mother's chambermaid a holiday. When she returned and found us gone, the clothes and jewelry missing, she would take it for granted that we had either attempted to make our escape to join my father, or that we had been arrested and thrown into prison.

Our plan proceeded without difficulty, and before sundown, we arrived at the back gate of the convent of St. Claire. We were most cordially welcomed by my aunt, the Lady Abbess of St. Claire, who, however, could not help lamenting the necessity which there was for us to take refuge with her. I noticed that she stared at me with great curiosity and whispered apart to my mother. The answer that she received seemed to be only partly satisfactory. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled slightly as she glanced at me. “I do not doubt your step-daughter's discretion, but I hope that she will recollect that she is Mademoiselle d'Ermonville, and will behave as becomes her rank and sex.” This was addressed to me with very pointed emphasis. I remained silent; my only reply was a low, sweeping curtsey, at which feminine performance my mother could not repress her smiles.