rts. One--I cannot explain now, dear, for I
was sent by the Prioress to ask you, Veronica, to go to her room; she
wants to speak to you. And I must go back to the novitiate. I
suppose," she added, "Veronica has told you that our counterparts are
a little secret among ourselves? Mother Hilda knows nothing of them.
It would not do to speak of these visitations; but I never could see
any harm, for it isn't by our own will that the counterpart comes to
us; he is sent."

Evelyn asked in what Gospel Christ's descent into hell is described,
and heard it was in that of Nicodemus; her estimation of Angela went
up in consequence. Angela was one of the few with intellectual
interests; and it was Evelyn's wish to hear about this Gospel that
led her, a few days afterwards, to walk with Angela and Veronica in
the orchard. Angela was delighted to be questioned regarding her
reading, and she told all she knew about Nicodemus. Veronica walked a
little ahead, plucking the tall grasses and enjoying the beautiful
weather. Evelyn, too, enjoyed the beautiful weather while listening
to the story of the harrowing of hell, as described by Nicodemus.
There were no clouds anywhere, and the sky, a dim blue overhead,
turned to grey as it descended. The June verdure of the park was a
wonderful spectacle, so many were the varying tints of green; only a
few unfledged poplars retained their russet tints. Outside the
garden, along the lanes, all the hedges overflowed with the great
lush of June; nettles and young ivy, buttercups, cow-parsley in
profusion, and in the hedge itself the white blossom of the hawthorn.
"The wild briar," Evelyn said to herself, "preparing its roses for
some weeks later, and in the low-lying lands, where there is a dip in
the fields, wild irises are coming into flower, and under the larches
on the banks women and children spend the long day chattering. Here
we talk of Nicodemus and spiritual loves."

Angela, an alert young woman, whose walk still retained a dancing
movement, whose face, white like white flowers and lit with laughing
eyes, set Evelyn wondering what strange turn of mind should have
induced her to enter a convent. Locks of soft golden hair escaped
from her hood, intended to grow into long tresses, but she had
allowed her hair to be cut. An ideal young mother, she seemed to
Evelyn to be; and the thought of motherhood was put into Evelyn's
mind by the story Angela was telling, for her counterpart had been
drowned