One day in the last month of Evelyn's noviceship--for it was the
Reverend Mother's plans to put up Evelyn for election, provided she
could persuade Evelyn to take her final vows--Sister Mary John sat at
the harmonium, her eyes fixed, following Evelyn's voice like one in a
dream. Evelyn was singing Stradella's "Chanson d'Eglise," and when
she, had finished the nun rose from her seat, clasping her friend's
hand, thanking her for her singing with such effusion that the
thought crossed Evelyn's mind that perhaps her friend was giving to
her some part of that love which it was essential to the nun to
believe belonged to God alone; and knowing Sister Mary John so well,
she could not doubt that, as soon as the nun discovered her
infidelity to the celestial Bridegroom, she would separate herself at
once from her. A tenderness in the touch of the hand, an ardour in
the eye, might reveal the secret to her, or very likely a casual
remark from some other nun would awaken her conscience to the danger
--an imaginary danger, of course--but that would not be her idea.
Formal relations would be impossible between them, one of them would
have to leave; and, without this friendship, Evelyn felt she could
not live in the convent.
The accident she foresaw happened two days after, when sitting in the
library writing. Veronica came in. Evelyn had seen very little of her
lately, and at one time Evelyn, Veronica, and Sister Mary John had
formed a little group, each possessing a quality which attracted the
others; but, insensibly, musical interests and literary interests--
Sister Mary John had begun to teach Evelyn Latin--had drawn Evelyn
and Sister Mary John together, excluding Veronica a little. This
exclusion was more imaginary than real. But some jealousy of Sister
Mary John had entered her mind; and Evelyn had noticed, though Sister
Mary John had failed to notice, that Veronica had, for some time
past, treated them with little disdainful airs. And now, when she
opened the door, she did not answer Evelyn at once, though Evelyn
welcomed her with a pretty smile, asking her whom she was seeking.
There was an accent of concentrated dislike in Veronica's voice when
Evelyn said she was looking for Sister Mary John.
"I heard her trampling about the passage just now; she is on her way
here, no doubt, and won't keep you waiting."
The word "trampling" was understood by Evelyn as an allusion to the
hobnails which Sister Mary John wore in the garden. Veronica often
dropped a rude word, which seemed ruder than it was owing to the
refinement and distinction of her face and her voice. A rude word
seemed incongruous on the lips of this mediæval virgin; and Evelyn
sat nibbling the end of the pen, thinking this jealousy was
dangerous. Sister Mary John only had to hear of it. The door opened
again; this time it was Sister Mary John, who had come to ask Evelyn
what was the matter with Veronica.
"I passed her in the passage just now, and when I asked her if she
had seen you, she said she really was too busy to speak to me; and, a
moment after, she stood a long while to play with the black kitten,
who was catching flies in the window."
"There is no doubt that Veronica has changed; lately she has been
rather rude to me."
"To you, Teresa? Now, what could she be rude about to you?" The nun's
face changed expression, and Evelyn sat reading it, "Do you think she
is jealous of the time we spend together? We have been together a
great deal lately."
"But it is necessary that we should be--our music."
"Yes, our music, of course; but I was thinking of other times."
Evelyn knew that Sister Mary John was thinking of the time they had
spent reading the Breviary together--four great volumes, one for
every season of the year. It was Sister Mary John who had taught her
to appreciate the rich, mysterious tradition of the Church, and how
these books of ritual and observances could satisfy the mind more
than any secular literature. There was always something in the Office
to talk about, something new amid much that remained the same--the
reappearance of a favourite hymn.
"All the same, Sister, we should not take so much pleasure in each
other's society. Veronica is quite right."
At that moment Evelyn was called away by the portress, who had come
to tell her that Mother Hilda wanted her in the novitiate, and Sister
Mary John was left thinking in the library that Veronica was
certainly right, and every moment the conviction grew clearer. It
must have been forming in her mind for a long time past, for, within
five minutes after Evelyn had left the room, the nun determined to go
straight to the Prioress and tell her that her life was being
absorbed by Evelyn and beg her to transfer her to the Mother House in
France. Never to see Evelyn again! Her strength almost failed her as
she went towards the door. But what would it profit her to see Evelyn
for a few years if she should lose her for eternity? A little
courage, and they would meet to part no more. In a few years both
would be in heaven. A confusion of thought began in her; she
remembered many things, that she no longer loved Christ as she used
to love him. She no longer stood before the picture in which Christ
took St. Francis in His arms, saying to Christ, "My embrace will be
warmer than his when thou takest me in thy arms." She had often
thought of herself and Evelyn in heaven, walking hand in hand. Once
they had sat enfolded in each other's arms under a flowering
oleander. Christ was watching them! And all this could only point to
one thing, that her love of Evelyn was infringing upon her love of
God. And Evelyn, too, had questioned her love of God as if she were
jealous of it, but she had answered Evelyn that nuns were the brides
of Christ, and must set no measure on their love of God. "There is no
lover," she had said, "like God; He is always by you, you can turn to
Him at any moment. God wishes us to keep all our love for Him." She
had said these things, but how differently she had acted, forgetful
of God, thinking only of Evelyn, and her vows, and not a little of
the woman herself.
The revelation was very sudden.... Sister Mary John seemed to find
somebody in herself of whom she knew nothing, and a passion in
herself unknown to her before. Therefore, to the Prioress she went at
once to tell her everything.
"Mother, I have come to ask you if you will transfer me to the Mother
House in France."
The Reverend Mother repeated the words in astonishment, and listened
to Sister Mary John, who was telling her that she had found herself
in sin.
"My life is falling to pieces, Mother, and I can only save myself by
going away."
A shipwreck this was, indeed, for all the Prioress's plans! If Sister
Mary John left, how was Evelyn to be persuaded to take the veil? "At
every moment I am confronted with some unexpected obstacle." She
tried to argue with Sister Mary John; but the nun was convinced she
must go. So the only thing to do was to make terms.
"Teresa must know nothing of what has happened, on that I insist.
There is too much of this kind of thing going on in my convent; I
have heard of it among the younger nuns, all are thinking of visions.
But among you women, who have been in the convent for many years, I
had thought--"
"Mother, we are all weak; the flesh errs, and all we can do is to
check ourselves, to pray, and take such measures as will save us from
falling into sin again. Of what you said just now about the younger
nuns I know nothing, nor has any vision been vouchsafed to me, only I
have stumbled."
The Prioress did not answer; she was thinking how Sister Mary John
might be transferred.
"Mrs. Cater is going to France next month, you can travel with her."
"So a month must pass! I thought of leaving to-day or to-morrow, but
I see that is impossible. A month! How shall I endure it?"
"No one will know," the Prioress answered, with a little vehemence.
"It is a secret between us, I repeat, and I forbid you to tell any
one the reason of your leaving. Teresa will be professed in a few
weeks, I hope; she has reached the critical moment of her life, and
her mind must not be disturbed. The raising of such a question, at
such a time, might be fatal to her vocation."
The Prioress rose from her chair, and, following Sister Mary John to
the door, impressed upon her again that it was essential that no one
should ever know why she had left the convent.
"You can tell Teresa before you leave, but she must hear nothing of
it till the moment of your leaving. I give you permission merely to
say goodbye to her on the day you leave, and in the interval you will
see as little of each other as possible."
But when Sister Mary John said that Sister Elizabeth could accompany
Evelyn as well as she could, the Prioress interrupted her.
"You must always accompany her when she sings at Benediction; you
must do nothing to let her suspect that you are leaving the convent
on her account. You promise me this? You can tell her what you like,
of course when you are leaving, but not before. Of course, there is
no use arguing with you again, Sister Mary John. You are determined,
I can see that; but I do assure you that your leaving us is a sore
trial to us, more than you think for."
In the passage Sister Mary John came unexpectedly upon Evelyn
returning from the novitiate.
"Well, I have got through my Latin lesson, and Mother Hilda is
delighted at my progress. She flatters herself on her instruction,
but any progress I have made is owing to you.... But what is the
matter, Sister? Why do you move away?" Evelyn put her hand on the
nun's shoulder.
"Don't, Sister; I must go."
"Why must you go?"
"Teresa, try to think--" She was about to say "of God, and not of
me," but her senses seemed to swoon a little at that moment, and she
fell into Evelyn's arms.
"Teresa! Teresa! What is this?"
It was the Prioress coming from her room.
"A sudden giddiness, Mother," the nun answered.
"Just as I was telling her of my Latin lesson in the novitiate, that
I could learn Latin with her better than with Mother Hilda."
"We met in the passage," Sister Mary John said, moving away.
"And a sudden giddiness came over her," Evelyn explained.
"Teresa, Sister Cecilia, who is our sacristan, is a little slow; she
wants help, you are just the one to help her, and come with me."