ur interest here is not as unreal; their hope is to build a wall
of prayer between a sinful world and the wrath of God. Such silliness
passes out of perception."

"Your perception? We come into the world with different perceptions;
but do not let us drift into argument, not this evening, Owen."

"Quite so, let us not drift into argument.... I am sorry you charged
me with being disappointed that you didn't remain in the convent; you
see I didn't know of the wonderful work you were doing here. Your
kindness is more than a nun's kindness." But he feared his casual
words might provoke her, and hastened to ask her about Sister
Winifred, at length persuading her into the admission that Sister
Winifred used to whip the children.

"I'm sure she liked whipping them. Women who shut themselves out from
life develop cruelty. I can quite understand how she would like to
hear them cry."

"Tell me more about the nuns."

"No, Owen, I wouldn't speak ill of the nuns. Don't press me to speak
ill of them. You don't know, Owen, what might have become of me had
it not been for the convent. I don't know what might have become of
me. I might have drifted away and nothing have ever been heard of me
again." A dark look gathered in her face, "vanishing like the shadow
of a black wing over a sunny surface," Owen said to himself, "Now
what has frightened her? Not her love of me, for that love she always
looked on as legitimate." He remembered how she used to cling to that
view, while admitting it to be contrary to the teaching of the
Church. Did she still cling to this belief? "Probably, for we do hot
change our instinctive beliefs," he said, and longed to question her;
but not daring, and, thinking a lighter topic of conversation
desirable, he told her he would like to teach Eliza how to make
coffee.

"There is only one way of making coffee" he said, and he had learned
the secret from a friend, who had always the best coffee. He had
known him as a bachelor, he had known him as a married man, and
afterwards as a divorced man, but in these different circumstances
the coffee remained the same. So he said, "My good friend how is it
that your cooks make equally good coffee?" And the friend answered
that it was himself who had taught every cook how to make coffee; it
was only a question of boiling water. And, still talking of the
making of coffee, they wandered into the garden and stood watching
the little boys all arow, their heads tucked in fo