Inthemusicclass，intheballadsshesang，therewasnothingbutlittleangelswithgoldenwings，madonnas，lagunes，gondoliers；-mildcompositionsthatallowedhertocatchaglimpseathwarttheobscurityofstyleandtheweaknessofthemusicoftheattractivephantasmagoriaofsentimentalrealities。Someofhercompanionsbrought“keepsakes“giventhemasnewyear’sgiftstotheconvent。Thesehadtobehidden；itwasquiteanundertaking；theywerereadinthedormitory。Delicatelyhandlingthebeautifulsatinbindings，Emmalookedwithdazzledeyesatthenamesoftheunknownauthors，whohadsignedtheirversesforthemostpartascountsorviscounts。
Shetrembledassheblewbackthetissuepaperovertheengravingandsawitfoldedintwoandfallgentlyagainstthepage。Herebehindthebalustradeofabalconywasayoungmaninashortcloak，holdinginhisarmsayounggirlinawhitedresswearinganalms-bagatherbelt；ortherewerenamelessportraitsofEnglishladieswithfaircurls，wholookedatyoufromundertheirroundstrawhatswiththeirlargecleareyes。Sometherewereloungingintheircarriages，glidingthroughparks，agreyhoundboundingalonginfrontoftheequipagedrivenatatrotbytwomidgetpostilionsinwhitebreeches。Others，dreamingonsofaswithanopenletter，gazedatthemoonthroughaslightlyopenwindowhalfdrapedbyablackcurtain。Thenaiveones，atearontheircheeks，werekissingdovesthroughthebarsofaGothiccage，or，smiling，theirheadsononeside，werepluckingtheleavesofamargueritewiththeirtaperfingers，thatcurvedatthetipslikepeakedshoes。Andyou，too，werethere，SultanswithlongpipesrecliningbeneatharboursinthearmsofBayaderes；Djiaours，Turkishsabres，Greekcaps；andyouespecially，palelandscapesofdithyrambiclands，thatoftenshowusatoncepalmtreesandfirs，tigersontheright，aliontotheleft，Tartarminaretsonthehorizon；thewholeframedbyaveryneatvirginforest，andwithagreatperpendicularsunbeamtremblinginthewater，where，standingoutinrelieflikewhiteexcoriationsonasteel-greyground，swansareswimmingabout。
AndtheshadeoftheargandlampfastenedtothewallaboveEmma’sheadlightedupallthesepicturesoftheworld，thatpassedbeforeheronebyoneinthesilenceofthedormitory，andtothedistantnoiseofsomebelatedcarriagerollingovertheBoulevards。
Whenhermotherdiedshecriedmuchthefirstfewdays。Shehadafuneralpicturemadewiththehairofthedeceased，and，inalettersenttotheBertauxfullofsadreflectionsonlife，sheaskedtobeburiedlateroninthesamegrave。Thegoodmanthoughtshemustbeill，andcametoseeher。Emmawassecretlypleasedthatshehadreachedatafirstattempttherareidealofpalelives，neverattainedbymediocrehearts。SheletherselfglidealongwithLamartinemeanderings，listenedtoharpsonlakes，toallthesongsofdyingswans，tothefallingoftheleaves，thepurevirginsascendingtoheaven，andthevoiceoftheEternaldiscoursingdownthevalleys。Sheweariedofit，wouldnotconfessit，continuedfromhabit，andatlastwassurprisedtofeelherselfsoothed，andwithnomoresadnessatheartthanwrinklesonherbrow。
Thegoodnuns，whohadbeensosureofhervocation，perceivedwithgreatastonishmentthatMademoiselleRouaultseemedtobeslippingfromthem。Theyhadindeedbeensolavishtoherofprayers，retreats，novenas，andsermons，theyhadsooftenpreachedtherespectduetosaintsandmartyrs，andgivensomuchgoodadviceastothemodestyofthebodyandthesalvationofhersoul，thatshedidastightlyreinedhorses；shepulledupshortandthebitslippedfromherteeth。Thisnature，positiveinthemidstofitsenthusiasms，thathadlovedthechurchforthesakeoftheflowers，andmusicforthewordsofthesongs，andliteratureforitspassionalstimulus，rebelledagainstthemysteriesoffaithasitgrewirritatedbydiscipline，athingantipathetictoherconstitution。Whenherfathertookherfromschool，noonewassorrytoseehergo。TheLadySuperioreventhoughtthatshehadlatterlybeensomewhatirreverenttothecommunity。