It is fifteen years later, in 1655, at the park of the Sisters of the Holy Cross in Paris. The park is filled with magnificent trees. On the left is the house, containing broad steps onto which open several doors. An enormous plane tree is in the middle of the stage, standing alone. On the right, among big boxwood trees, is a semicircular stone bench.

The whole background of the stage is crossed by an alley of chestnut tress leading on the right-hand side to the door of a chapel seen through the branches. Through the double row of trees of this alley are seen lawns, other alleys, clusters of trees, the winding of the park, and the sky.

The chapel opens by a little side door onto a colonnade which is wreathed with autumn leaves, and is lost to view a little farther on in the right-hand foreground behind the boxwood.

It is autumn. All the foliage is red against the fresh green of the lawns. The green boxwood and yews stand out darkly. Under each tree is a patch of yellow leaves. The stage is strewn with dead leaves, which rustle under foot in the alleys, and partially cover the steps and benches.

Between the bench on the right-hand side and the tree, a large embroidery frame is set up, in front of which is a little chair. There are baskets full of skeins and balls of wool. A tapestry has been started in the frame.

At the rising of the curtain, NUNS are walking to and fro in the park. Some are seated on the bench around an older nun. The leaves are falling.