neck."

"But what will become of him? He will get more and more savage." Miss
Dingle ran after the cat, who put up his tail and trotted away,
eluding her. She came back, telling Evelyn that she might see the
devil if she wished. "That is to say, if you are not afraid. He's in
that corner, and I don't like to go there. I have hunted him out of
these bushes--you need not be afraid, my rosary has been over them
all."

Evelyn could see that Miss Dingle wished her to exorcise the
dangerous corner, and she offered to do so.

"You have two rosaries, you might lend me one."

"No, I don't think I could. I want two, one for each hand, you
see.... I have not seen you in the garden this last day or two.
You've been away, haven't you?"

"I've been in Rome."

"In Rome! Then why don't you go and hunt him out... frighten him
away? You don't need a rosary if you have touched the precious
relics. You should be able to drive him out of the garden, and out of
the park too, though the park is a big place. But here comes Sister
Mary John. You will tell me another time if you've brought back
anything that the Pope has worn."

Sister Mary John came striding over the broken earth, followed by her
jackdaw. The bird stopped to pick up a fat worm, and the nun sent
Miss Dingle away very summarily.

"I can't have you here, Alice. Go to the summer-house and worry the
devil away with your holy pictures. I've no time for you, dear," she
said to the jackdaw, who had alighted on her shoulder; "and I have
been looking for you everywhere," she said, turning from her bird to
Evelyn. "You promised me--But I suppose digging tired you?"

"No, it was not that, Sister, only the sun came out and the warmth
was so delicious; I am afraid I am easily beguiled."

"We are all easily beguiled," Sister Mary John answered somewhat
sharply. "Now we must try to get on with our digging. You can help me
a little with it, can't you?" And looking up and down a plot about
ten yards long and twenty feet wide, protected by a yew-hedge, she
said, "This is the rhubarb-bed. And this piece," she said, walking to
another plot between the yew-hedge and the gooseberry bushes, "will
have to be dug up. We were short of vegetables last year."

"You speak very lightly, Sister, of so much digging. Do you never get
tired?" So that she might not lose heart altogether, Sister Mary John
told her one of these beds had been dug up in autumn, and that no
more would be required than t