R ESTHER MAGDALENE

Esther's novitiate in the community of St. Mary Magdalene, Shoreditch,
had lasted six months longer than was usual, because the Mother Superior
while never doubting her vocation for the religious life had feared for
her ability to stand the strain of that work among penitents to which
the community was dedicated. In the end, her perseverance had been
rewarded, and the day of her profession was at hand.

During the whole of her nearly four years' novitiate Esther had not been
home once; although Mark and she had corresponded at long intervals,
their letters had been nothing more than formal records of minor events,
and on St. John's eve he drove with the dogcart to meet her, wondering
all the way how much she would have changed. The first thing that struck
him when he saw her alight from the train on Shipcot platform was her
neatness. In old days with windblown hair and clothes flung on anyhow
she had belonged so unmistakably to the open air. Now in her grey habit
and white veil of the novice she was as tranquil as Miriam, and for the
first time Mark perceived a resemblance between the sisters. Her
complexion, which formerly was flushed and much freckled by the open
air, was now like alabaster; and although her auburn hair was hidden
beneath the veil Mark was aware of it like a hidden fire. He had in the
very moment of welcoming her a swift vision of that auburn hair lying on
the steps of the altar a fortnight hence, and he was filled with a wild
desire to be present at her profession and gathering up the shorn locks
to let them run through his fingers like flames. He had no time to be
astonished at himself before they were shaking hands.

"Why, Esther," he laughed, "you're carrying an umbrella."

"It was raining in London," she said gravely.

He was on the point of exclaiming at such prudence in Esther when he
blushed in the remembrance that she was a nun. During the drive back
they talked shyly about the characters of the village and the Rectory
animals.

"I feel as if you'd just come back from school for the holidays," he
said.

"Yes, I feel as if I'd been at school," she agreed. "How sweet the
country smells."

"Don't you miss the country sometimes in Shoreditch?" he asked.

She shook her head and looked at him with puzzled eyes.

"Why should I miss anything in Shoreditch?"

Mark was abashed and silent for the rest of the drive, because he
fancied that Esther might have supposed tha