Veronica took the vestments out of her hand, a pretty colour coming into her cheeks as she did so.  And Evelyn understood her jealousy, lest any other hands but hers should lay the vestments out that he was to wear, and she turned her head so that Veronica might not think she was being watched.  And the little nun was happy in the corner of the sacristy laying out the vestments, putting the gold chalice for him to use, and the gold cruets, which Evelyn had never seen used before.”

“You see, being a monk, he has a larger amice than the ordinary priest.”  And Veronica produced a strip of embroidery which she tacked on the edge of the amice, so that it might give the desired appearance when the monk drew it over his head on entering or leaving the sacristy.

A few days after Evelyn came upon this amice with the embroidery edge put away in a secret corner, so that it should not be used in the ordinary way; and, as she stood wondering at the child’s love for the aged monk, Sister Agnes came to tell her she was wanted to bid Sister Mary John goodbye.

“To bid Sister Mary John goodbye!”

“Yes, Sister Teresa, that is what the Prioress told me to tell you.”

Evelyn hurried to the library.  Sister Mary John was standing near the window, and she wore a long black cloak over her habit, and had a bird-cage in her hand.  Evelyn saw the sly jackdaw, with his head on one side, looking at her.

“What is the meaning of this, Sister?  You don’t tell me you are going away?  And for how long?”

“For ever, Sister; we shall never see each other again.  I promised the Prioress not to tell you before.  It was a great hardship, but I gave my promise, she allowing us to see each other for a few minutes before I left.”

“I can’t take in what you’re saying.  Going away for ever?  Oh, Sister, this cannot be true!” And Evelyn stood looking at the nun, her eyes dilated, her fingers crisped as if she would hold Sister Mary John back.  “But what is taking you away?”

“That is a long story, too long for telling now; besides, you know it.  You know I have been very fond of you, Teresa; too fond of you.”

“So that’s it.  And how shall I live here without you?”

“You are going to enter the convent, and as a nun you will learn to live without me; you will learn to love God better than you do now.”

“One moment; tell me, it is only fair you should tell me, how our love of each other has altered your love of God?”

“I can never tell you, Teresa, I can only say that I never understood, perhaps, as I do now, that nothing must come between the soul and God, and that there is no room for any other love in our hearts.  We must remember always we are the brides of Christ, you and I, Sister.”

“But I am not professed, and never shall be.”

“I hope you will, Sister, and that all your love will go to our crucified Lord.”