Sister Veronica warned Evelyn that she must be careful how she went down the staircase, as it was very slippery.  Evelyn said she would be careful; she added that the sisters kept the stairs in beautiful order, and wondered what her next remark would be.  She was nervous in the presence of these convent women, lest by some unfortunate remark she should betray herself.  And when they reached the garden it was Sister Veronica who was the most self-possessed—­she was already confessing to Evelyn that they had all felt very nervous knowing that a “real” singer was listening to them.

“Oh, do you sing?” Evelyn asked eagerly.

“Well, I have to try,” Sister Veronica answered, with a little laugh.  “Mother Prioress thought perhaps I might learn, so she put me in the choir, but Sister Mary John says I shall never be the least use.”

“Is Sister Mary John the sister who teaches you?”

“Yes; it is she who played the organ at Mass.  She loves music.  She is simply longing to hear you sing, Miss Innes.  Do you think you will sing at Benediction this afternoon for us?  It would be lovely.”

“I don’t know, really.  You see I haven’t been asked yet.”

“Oh, Reverend Mother is sure to ask you—­at least I hope she will.  We all want to hear you so much.”

They were sitting in the shadow of a great elm; all around was a wonderful silence, and to turn the conversation from herself, Evelyn asked Sister Veronica if she didn’t care for their beautiful garden.

“Oh, yes, indeed I do.  I’m glad you like it....  When I was a child my greatest treat was to be allowed to play in the nuns’ garden.”

“Then you knew the convent long before you came to be a nun yourself?”

“Oh, yes, I’ve known it all my life.”

“So it was not strange when you came here first?”

“No, it was like coming home.”

Evelyn repeated the nun’s words to herself, “Like coming home.”  And she seemed to see far into their meaning.  Here was an illustration of what she had read in the book—­she and Veronica seemed to understand each other in the silence.  But it became necessary to speak, and in answer to a question, Sister Veronica told Evelyn that there were four novices and two postulants in the novitiate, and that the name of the novice mistress was Mother Mary Hilda.  The novitiate was in the upper storey of the new wing, above the convent refectory.

“And here is Reverend Mother,” and Sister Veronica suddenly got up.  Evelyn got up too, and they waited till the elderly nun slowly crossed the lawn.  Evelyn noticed, even when the Reverend Mother was seated, that Veronica remained standing.

“You can go now, Veronica.”

Veronica smiled a little good-bye to Evelyn, and left them immediately.

“Veronica told you, Miss Innes, I was taking my watch?”

“Yes, Reverend Mother.”

“I hope she has not been wearying you with the details of our life?”