s known, but she could live in the convent; that would
shelter her from any sort of criticism. I don't see why she shouldn't
take the habit of one of the postulants, but--'

The priest waited for his sister to speak, and after waiting a little
while he asked her what she was going to say.

'I was going to ask you,' said the nun, waking from her reverie, 'if you
have written to Miss Glynn.'

'Yes, I wrote to her.'

'And she's willing to come back?'

'I haven't spoken to her about that. It didn't occur to me until
afterwards, but I can write at once if you consent.'

'I may be wrong, Oliver, but I don't think she'll care to leave London
and come back here, where she is known.'

'But, Eliza, a girl likes to live in her own country. Mind you, I am
responsible. I drove her out of her country among strangers. She's
living among Protestants.'

'I don't think that will trouble her very much.'

'I don't know why you say that, Eliza. Do you think that a woman cannot
repent? that because she happens to have sinned once--'

'No; I suppose there are repentant sinners, but I think we most often go
on as we begin. Now, you see, Father O'Grady says that she's getting on
very well in London, and we like to live among those who appreciate us.'

'Well, Eliza, of course, if you start with the theory that no one can
repent--'

'I didn't say that, Oliver. But she wouldn't tell you who the man was.
She seems a person of character--I mean, she doesn't seem to be lacking
in strength of character.'

'She's certainly a most excellent musician. You'll find no one like her,
and you may be able to get her very cheap. And if your school doesn't
pay--'

A shade passed across the Reverend Mother's face.

'There's no doubt that the new wing has cost us a great deal of money.'

'Then there are the French nuns--'

'My dear Oliver, if you wish me to engage Miss Glynn as music-mistress
I'll do so. There's no use speaking to me about the French nuns. I'll
engage her because you ask me, but I cannot pay her as much as those who
have diplomas. How much do you think she'd come for?'

'I don't know what she's earning in London, but I suppose you can pay
her an average wage. You could pay her according to results.'

'What you say is quite true, Oliver.' The priest and the nun continued
their walk up and down in front of the unfinished building. 'But you
don't know, Oliver, if she's willing to leave London. You'll have to
write and find out