nance for her. Now, Miss Fiona Sèvremont had become another centre of attention for the children. Her childish dignity and enchanting beauty truly befitted this position - when Fiona was present, the gatherings of young girls around the stone steps in the garden, imitating the salons of noble ladies, sometimes really taking on a hint of sophistication reminiscent of the □□ society.

It was only after the lights were out, and merely the faint breaths of the girls remained in the air, that troubles once again invaded her heart.

The source of pain and fear was gone, yet there was little solace in the heart of the girl. She vaguely felt that Sister Agatha''s missing was somehow related to her own confidences to the Marquis in the visiting room that day.

Did Monsieur the Marquis help her? Perhaps the Mother was simply sent to another convent, or maybe she was indeed expelled for her own misdeeds.

The Marquis had not forsaken her; he remained the relied-upon and trustworthy protector she had known. But why did he now begin to evoke a sense of fear within her?

Lovely Fiona tossed and turned, reluctant to succumb to sleep. But eventually fatigue overpowered her, and she drifted into slumber.

"Whore! Currish bitch!"

In her dreams, she once again felt herself trembling in fear, huddled under her mother''s body. The rich man, enraged by the ruined clothes in the wash, spat at her mother, forcefully stomping his heavy boot on her arched back again and again, kicking her hips with the toe of his shoe. Mother sheltered Fiona beneath