my mother, who was holding my hand and sometimes putting it to her
lips, said:

"Tell me everything that has happened."

As soon as my little tongue was loosed I told her all about my life at
the Convent--about the Reverend Mother and the nuns and the novices and
the girls (all except Sister Angela and Alma) and the singing of the
hymn to the Virgin--talking on and on and on, without observing that,
after a while, my mother's eyes had closed again, and that her hand had
become cold and moist.

At length she said: "Is it getting dark, Mary?"

I told her it was night and the lamp was burning.

"Is it going out then?" she asked, and when I answered that it was not
she did not seem to hear, so I stopped talking, and for some time there
was silence in which I heard nothing but the ticking of the clock on the
mantelpiece, the barking of a sheep dog a long way off, and the husky
breathing in my mother's throat.

I was beginning to be afraid when the nurse returned. She was going to
speak quite cheerfully, but after a glance at my mother she went out
quickly and came back in a moment with Doctor Conrad and Father Dan.

I heard the doctor say something about a change, whereupon Father Dan
hurried away, and in a moment there was much confusion. The nurse spoke
of taking me to another room but the doctor said:

"No, our little woman will be brave," and then leading me aside he
whispered that God was sending for my mother and I must be quiet and not
cry.

Partly undressing I climbed into my cot and lay still for the next half
hour, while the doctor held his hand on my mother's pulse and the nurse
spread a linen cloth over a table and put four or five lighted candles
on it.

I remember that I was thinking that if "God sending for my mother" meant
that she was to be put into a box and buried under the ground it was
terrible and cruel, and perhaps if I prayed to our Lady He would not
find it in His heart to do so. I was trying to do this, beginning under
my breath, "O Holy Virgin, thou art so lovely, thou art so gracious . . ."
when the nurse said:

"Here they are back again."

Then I heard footsteps outside, and going to the window I saw a sight
not unlike that which I had seen on the night of the Waits.

A group of men were coming towards the house, with Father Dan in the
middle of them. Father Dan, with his coat hung over his arms like a
cloak, was carrying something white in both hands, and the men were
carrying