altar, if the temperature were allowed to drop.  Her talk was all about her garden, and when the spring returned she was working there constantly with Sister Mary John in the morning till the Angelus rang at twelve; then they went into dinner, and as soon as dinner was over Evelyn returned with Sister Mary John to the garden and worked till it was time to go into church for Benediction.  Or sometimes they left the garden when the other nuns went there for recreation, having music to try over, for now, since she had recovered her health, Evelyn sang every day at Benediction.

“There is no reason why she should remain any longer with us,” the Prioress often said, “unless there is some hope of her staying altogether.  You will admit, Hilda, that her health is much improved, and that she is capable now of arriving at some decision.”

“There is no doubt her health is improving.”

“And her piety—­have you noticed it?  She almost sets us an example.”

Mother Hilda did not answer, and the Prioress understood her silence to mean that she would hardly look upon Evelyn as an example for the convent to follow.

“Well, something will have to be decided.”  And one evening the Prioress asked Mother Philippa and Mother Hilda to her room after evening prayers.

“We were talking of Evelyn the other day in the garden, Hilda, and you admitted that she was in a state now to decide whether she should go or stay.”

“You mean, dear Mother, that Evelyn must either leave us or join the community?”

“Or show some signs that she wishes to join it.  Her postulancy has been unduly prolonged; it is nearly a year since she returned from Rome, and she was a postulant for six months before that.”

“You think that if she hadn’t a vocation she would have left us before?  But are you not forgetting that she was suffering from a nervous breakdown, and came here with the intention of seeking rest rather than becoming one of us?”

“Her health has been mending this long while.  Really, Hilda—­”

“I am sorry, Mother, if I seem stubborn.”

“Not stubborn, but I should like to hear you explain your reasons for thinking Evelyn has not a vocation.  And Mother Philippa is most anxious to hear them, too.”

Mother Philippa listened, thinking of her bed, wondering why Mother Mary Hilda kept them up by refusing to agree with the Prioress.

“I am afraid I shall not be able to say anything that will convince you.  I have had some experience—­”

“We know that you are very experienced, otherwise you would not be the Mistress of the Novices.  You don’t believe in Evelyn’s vocation?”

“I’m afraid I don’t, and—­”

“And what, Mother Hilda?  We are here for the purpose of listening to you.  We shall be influenced by everything you say, so pray speak your mind fully.”

“About Evelyn?  But that is just my point; there is nothing for me to say about her.  I hardly know her; she has hardly been in the novitiate since she returned from Rome.”  “You think before taking the veil she should receive more religious instruction from you?”