Evelyn smiled sadly.

“You will meet your lovers again.  Temptation will be by you; you are still a young woman.  How old are you, Teresa?”

“Thirty-eight.  But I no longer feel young.”

“Then, do you not think it better to spend the last term with us?  I am an old woman, Teresa, and you are the only friend I have in the convent, the only one who knows me; it would be a great charity if you were to remain with me....  But you fear I shall live too long?  No, Teresa, the time will not be very long.”

“Mother, don’t talk like that, it only grieves me.  As long as you wish me to stay I’ll stay.”

“But if I weren’t here you would leave?” Evelyn did not answer.  “You would be very lonely?”

“Yes, I should be lonely.”  And then, speaking at the end of a long silence, she said, “Why did you send away Sister Mary John?  She was my friend, and one must have a friend—­even in a convent.”

“Teresa, I begged of her to remain.  And you are lonely now without her?”

“I should be lonelier, Mother, if you weren’t here.”

“We will share our loneliness together.”

Evelyn seemed to acquiesce.

“My dear child, you are very good; you have a kind heart.  One sees it in your eyes.”

She left the Prioress’s room frightened, saying.  “Till the Prioress’s death.”

XXXI

Father Daly paced the garden alley, reading his Breviary, and, catching sight of him, Sister Winifred, a tall, thin woman, with a narrow forehead and prominent teeth, said to herself, “Now’s my chance.”

“I hope you won’t mind my interrupting you, Father, but I have come to speak to you on a matter of some importance.  It will take some minutes for me to explain it all to you, and in confession, you see, our time is limited.  You know how strict the Prioress is that we shouldn’t exceed our regulation three minutes.”

“I know that quite well,” the little man answered abruptly; “a most improper rule.  But we’ll not discuss the Prioress, Sister Winifred.  What have you come to tell me?”

“Well, in a way, it is about the Prioress.  You know all about our financial difficulties, and you know they are not settled yet.”

“I thought that Sister Teresa’s singing—­”

“Of course, Sister Teresa’s singing has done us a great deal of good, but the collections have fallen off considerably; and, as for the rich Catholics who were to pay off our debts, they are like the ships coming from the East, but whose masts have not yet appeared above the horizon.”

“But does the Prioress still believe that these rich Catholics will come to her aid?”

“Oh, yes, she believes; she tells us that we must pray, and that if we pray they will come.  Well, Father, prayer is very well, but we must try to help ourselves, and we have been thinking it over; and, in thinking it over, some of us have come to very practical conclusions.”