"
"I'll take the red, thank you," said mother Catherine in the
spectacles. I'm so red myself. They'll comfort us on our way back to
Rome."
"Ah, they won't last," cried the young girl. "I wish I could give
you something that would last!"
"You've given us a good memory of yourself, my daughter. That will
last!"
"I wish nuns could wear pretty things. I would give you my blue
beads," the child went on.
"And do you go back to Rome to-night?" her father enquired.
"Yes, we take the train again. We've so much to do la-bas."
"Are you not tired?"
"We are never tired."
"Ah, my sister, sometimes," murmured the junior votaress.
"Not to-day, at any rate. We have rested too well here. Que Dieu
vous garde, ma fille."
Their host, while they exchanged kisses with his daughter, went
forward to open the door through which they were to pass; but as he
did so he gave a slight exclamation, and stood looking beyond. The
door opened into a vaulted ante-chamber, as high as a chapel and paved
with red tiles; and into this ante-chamber a lady had just been
admitted by a servant, a lad in shabby livery, who was now ushering
her toward the apartment in which our friends were grouped.
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