Evelyn, but Sister Mary John had no such
scruples, and the beatings proved so efficient that the cat would run
away the moment he was shown a bird in a cage. In turn each of the
cats received its lesson, and henceforth Evelyn's last presents--
blackbirds, thrushes, linnets, and bull-finches--lived in safety.

The feeding of these birds and the cleaning of the aviary occupied
two hours a day during the winter. She had also her greenhouse to
attend to; herself and Sister Mary John, with some help from the
outside, had built one, and hot-water pipes had been put in; and her
love of flowers was so great that she would run down the garden even
when the ground was covered with snow to stoke up the fire, if she
thought she had forgotten to do so, saying that they would have no
tulips, or lily of the valley, or azaleas for the 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 return