[Author's note: I realised from a comment in a review that there was something I hadn't made clear enough. So I have edited the first part of this chapter to make my meaning plainer. Version 2, 8th October 17]
Part 2
When Raoul arrived at the convent, the sister in charge of the gate assigned a messenger novice to conduct him to the audience room. A beam of sunlight from the window picked out a posy of flowers on the small, plain table. Two wooden chairs were set at it, with a few others around the walls. His guide left, but after a minute or two another door opened, and two nuns entered, the prioress and… "Christine," he murmured, pain in his voice.
"Within these walls, I am known as Sister Cecilia," she answered.
"But to me, you will always be Christine."
"Be seated, both of you," instructed the prioress. "I must remain, but I shall not interrupt you." She went to a chair in a corner of the room, took up some needlework and bent over it, seemingly absorbed. Christine sat at the table, and after a moment Raoul sat opposite her.
"Did it have to be this, Christine? Such a hasty commitment – I expected to find you in the white veil of a novice, not the habit of a full sister. And in only a matter of months…"
"I asked for this, Raoul. My situation… they were kind, they gave me special dispensation."
"Oh, I'm sure!" Raoul cast an angry glare at the prioress, who paid him no heed. "Once they heard you sing, they would not want you to change your mind! But how could you shut yourself away here? How could you let them crop your hair and throw it on the fire? Did I drive you to this? Or was it – him?"
"Life drove me here, Raoul. You, and him, and all that went on."
"But if you had let me be your husband, I could have protected you – "
"No, Raoul. I always told you that I could never marry you. And you – you once said that, because I would not marry, you wanted to see me in a safe place, and then you would leave me. Now I have found my safe place."
"But how safe is it? I searched a long time without finding you, but then I heard a rumour of a wonderful singer in the choir of this priory. I had to come, and I have found you. May not… others… do the same?"
"But neither you nor… nor anyone can force me away from here. I am guarded, as you see. Raoul, I am sorry that I had to abandon our friendship, had to abandon… everything. Even my colleagues in the Opera. I suppose Carlotta sang Marguerite, that night when I was snatched away?"
"She did. I was not there, of course, I was searching for you. But I did hear afterwards that she sang in a manner more subdued than was usual for her, and as a result gave a very moving performance. There is a rumour that she intends to retire now, feeling that that was the best she could ever do. But, Christine, you are changing the subject. What of you and me?"
"What of it?" She raised a hand, plucked at the coif which covered her head. "My decision is made, Raoul. We come from separate worlds, and now it is time for us to go to separate worlds."
"No! I cannot accept that! Christine, even vows can be revoked. I shall get lawyers to search for precedent. I can go to Rome myself, to plead your case. I shall see you free, and then – "
"Raoul, stop crying for the moon. See the reality, and forget me. I wish you well. I will pray for you." There was a break in her voice, and she rose abruptly. "I can do no more. Goodbye, Raoul." Turning, she quickly left the room.
Raoul had also risen, made as though to follow her, then stopped. The prioress rose from her seat. "No, Monsieur, you cannot go that way. Go out by the other door. The messenger will conduct you to my office, where I will join you in a few minutes."
Raoul heaved a long breath, and let it out, his shoulders slumped. "For what purpose? Everything has been said."
"Nevertheless, it was a condition of this meeting that you would speak to me afterwards. I hold you to that. Now excuse me; I must see Sister Cecilia."
O-O-O
A short time later, the prioress entered her office, where Raoul was waiting. "I wanted a few words with Sister Cecilia," she began. "She had already told me something of the time that you and she have spent together, and she is firm in her conviction that a childhood friendship is no foundation for adult love."
"So she turns her back on me, with no regrets," Raoul replied bitterly.
"She regrets very much that she has been the means of causing you pain. But she does not regret her refusal to marry you. Monsieur, though you may not think it, I was young once, and I was not always a nun. I know something of love, and of loss."
"And so you would counsel me to resignation? To accept my lot patiently? Perhaps you would send me to a monastery!"
"By no means. The cloister and the habit may conceal a broken heart, but they cannot heal it. No, Monsieur. Since the love you want is denied you, I would counsel you to look for some other way to fill your life. Duty, perhaps? There is a certain satisfaction in doing one's duty, and as you are of a noble family, it seems likely that you have many demands upon you. This duty you would have denied, had you gone against your family's wishes."
"Duty!" Raoul rose and paced about the room. "All my life, my brother lectured me about my duty. I need not hear it from you as well."
The prioress sighed. "Monsieur, when Mademoiselle Daaé first came to us, I needed to find out all I could about her unusual situation. This is not a closed order; I know people out in the world, and I asked them. Perhaps some of what I heard was mere gossip, and I should not have listened, but that is a matter between me and my confessor. You spoke of your brother. In the eyes of society, it was his duty to marry well and sire an heir to carry on the family name. And yet he did not, choosing instead to remain a bachelor and spend his time consorting with the opera girls. There was much speculation about him, some unkind, some pitying.
"Now the duty has fallen upon you. Be aware, Monsieur, that if you continue to pursue Sister Cecilia, you will be subject to the same insolent speculations. I dare say you would not care, if you could win her in the end. But as you have seen, she rejects you, preferring to remain here. You cannot have her. Accept that fact, and then remember that you are now the head of your family. Would you turn your back on all that that means, abandon the ties of blood and loyalty? Monsieur, go home. Look in your mirror and say to yourself, 'That is the Comte de Chagny. How should he behave, to be worthy of that name?' I think you will find that guidance will come to you."
O-O-O