“The robin follows her like a dog; and what a saucy little bird he is!  Look at him, Monsignor! isn’t he pretty, with his red breast and black, beady eyes?”

“Last winter, Monsignor, he spent on the kitchen clock.  He knows our kitchen well enough, and will go back there if a thaw does not begin very quickly.  But look,” continued Sister Mary John, “I have two bullfinches following me.  Aren’t they provoking birds?  They don’t build in our garden, where their nests would be safe, stupid birds! but away in the common.  I’d like to have a young bird and teach him to whistle.”

Evelyn and Monsignor stayed a moment watching the birds, thinking of other things, and then turned into St. Peter’s Walk to continue their talk.

“The afternoon is turning cold, and we can’t stop out talking in this garden any longer; but before we go in I beg of you—­”

“To agree that you should return to the stage?”

“For a few months, Monsignor.  I don’t want to go to America feeling that you think I have acted wrongly by going.  The nuns will pray for me, and I believe in their prayers; and I believe in yours, Monsignor, and in your advice.  Do say something kind.”

“You are determined upon this American tour?”

“I cannot do otherwise.  There is nothing else in my head.”

“And you must do something?  Well, Miss Innes, let us consider it from a practical point of view.  The nuns want money, it is true; but they want it at once.  Five thousand pounds at the end of next year will be very little use to them.”

“No, Monsignor, the Prioress tells me—­”

“You are free to dispose of your money in your own way—­in the way that gives you most pleasure.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Monsignor.  I have had enough pleasure in my life.”  And they turned out of St. Peter’s Walk, feeling it was really too cold to remain any longer in the garden.

“Well, Miss Innes, you are doing this entirely against my advice.”

“I’m sorry, but I cannot help myself; I want to help the nuns.  Everybody wants to do something; and to see one’s life slipping away—­”

“But you’ve done a great deal.”

“It doesn’t seem to me I have done anything.  Now that I have become a Catholic, I want to do something from the Catholic point of view, or from the religious point of view, if you like.  Will you recommend to me some man of business who will carry out the sale of my house for me, and settle everything?”

“So that you may hand over to the nuns the money that the sale of your pictures and furniture procures at Christie’s?”

“Yes; leaving me just sufficient to go to America.  I know I must appear to you very wilful, but there are certain things one can only settle for oneself.”

“I can give you the address of my solicitor, a very capable and trustworthy man, who will carry out your instructions.”

“Thank you, Monsignor; and be sure nothing will happen to me in America.  In six months I shall be back.”