priest started to his feet in confusion. "The dinner-bell
will ring in a few minutes," continued the Sister, regarding the man
severely.

"Ah, true," he murmured, hastily glancing at the clock. "The time
passed so rapidly--a--a--this girl--"

"Leave the girl to me," replied the Sister coldly. "Unless," she
added, "you consider her deranged. Coming from that hot country
suddenly into this cold climate might--"

"No, no," interrupted the priest hastily; "she seems uncommonly strong
mentally. She has some notions that are a--somewhat different from
ours--that is--but I will come and have a further talk with her."

He raised his hand in silent benediction, while the Sister bowed her
head stiffly. Then, as if loath to take his eyes from the girl, he
turned and went slowly out.

"Come," said the woman sharply. Carmen followed her out into the hall
and down a flight of steps to the kitchen below.

"Katherine," said the Sister Superior, addressing an elderly,
white-haired Sister who seemed to be in charge of the culinary
department, "put this girl to work. Let her eat with you and sleep in
your room. And see if you can't work some of the foolish notions out
of her head."

CHAPTER 3

"Get some o' th' foolish notions out of your head, is it? Och, puir
bairn, wid yer swate face an' that hivenly hair, it's welcome ye air
to yer notions! But, hist! Ye have talked too brash to the Sister
Superior. Ye air that innocent, puir thing! But, mind your tongue,
honey. Tell your funny notions to old Katie, an' they'll be safe as
the soul of Saint Patrick; but keep mum before the others, honey."

"But, Senora, don't they want to know the truth up here?" There was a
note of appeal in the quavering voice.

"Now listen, honey; don't call me sich heathen names. Call me Sister.
I'm no Senora, whativer that may be. And as for wantin' to know the
truth, God bless ye, honey! th' good Fathers know it all now."

"They don't, Sen--Sister!"

"Well, thin, they don't--an' mebby I'm not so far from agreein' wid
ye. But, och, it's dead beat I am, after the Sunday's work! But ye air
a right smart little helper, honey--only, ye don't belong in th'
kitchen."

"Sen--I mean, Sister--"

"That's better, honey; ye'll get it in time."

"Sister, I've just _got_ to find Mr. Reed! Do you know him?"

"No, honey, it's few I know outside these walls. But ye can put up a
bit of a prayer when ye turn in to-night. An' we'd best be makin' for
th'