" Then,
listening to the wind, the Prioress remembered that the convent roof
required re-slating. "Who knows? Perhaps what happened may have been
divinely ordered to bring her back to us? Who knows? who knows?" She
thought of the many other things the convent required: the chapel
wanted re-decorating, and they had to spare every penny they could
from their food and clothing to buy candles for the altar; another
item of expense was the resident chaplain; and when in bed she lay
thinking that perhaps to-morrow she would find a way out of the
difficulty that had puzzled her so long.

XX

"Yes, dear Mother, if you are willing to keep me I shall be glad to
remain. It is good of you. How kind you all are!"

Very little more than that she could be induced to say, relapsing,
after a few words, into a sort of stupor or dream, from which very
often it was impossible to rouse her; and the Prioress dreaded these
long silences, and often asked herself what they could mean, if the
cause were a fixed idea... on which she was brooding. Or it might be
that Evelyn's mind was fading, receding. If so, the responsibility of
keeping her in the convent was considerable. A little time would,
however, tell them. Any religious instruction was, of course, out of
the question, and books would be fatal to her.

"Her mind requires rest," the Prioress said. "Even her music is a
mental excitement."

"I don't think that," Sister Mary John answered. "And as for work, I
have been thinking I might teach her a little carpentry. If plain
carpentry does not interest her sufficiently, she might learn to work
at the lathe."

"Your idea is a very good one, Sister Mary John. Go to her at once
and set her to work. It is terrible to think of her sitting brooding,
brooding."

"But on what is she brooding, dear Mother?"

"No doubt her father's death was a great shock."

And Sister Mary John went in search of Evelyn, and found her
wandering in the garden.

"Of what are you thinking, Sister?" As Evelyn did not answer, Sister
Mary John feared she resented the question. "You don't like me to
walk with you?"

"Yes I do, I don't mind; but I wonder if the Prioress likes me to be
here. Can you find out for me?"

"Why should you think we do not wish to have you here?"

"Well, you see, Sister--oh, it is no use talking." Her thoughts
seemed to float away, and it might be five or ten minutes before she
would speak again.

"I wish you would come to the w