nk Sister
Ada's fears may sleep. She is not at all likely to unsettle any body.
She talks very little, except when necessary. Two months, I hear, she
will remain; and I do not think she will be any trouble to one of us.
Even Sister Gaillarde says, "She is a decent woman: she'll do." And
that means a good deal--from Sister Gaillarde.

I have the chance to speak to Margaret now. Of course a Mother can call
any Sister to her cell if needful; and no one may ask why except another
Mother. I must be careful not to seem to prefer Margaret above the
rest, and all the more because she is my own sister. But last night I
really had some directions to give her, and I summoned her to my cell.
When I had told her what I wanted, I was about to dismiss her with "_Pax
tibi_!" as usual, but Margaret's talking eyes told me she had something
to say.

I said,--"Well! what is it, Margaret?"

"May I speak to my sister Annora for a moment, and not to the Mother?"
she asked, with a look half amused and half sad.

"Thou mayest always do that, dear heart," said I.

(I hope it was not wicked.)

"Then--Annora, for whom is the Lady Joan looking?"

"Looking! I understand thee not, Margaret."

"I think it is either thou or I," she replied. "Sister Anne told me
that she asked her if there were not some Sisters of the Despenser
family here, and wished to have them pointed out to her: and she said to
Sister Anne, `She whom I seek was professed as a very little child.'
That must be either thou or I, Annora. What can she want with us?"

"Verily, Margaret, I cannot tell."

"I wondered if she might be a niece of ours."

"She may," said I. "I never thought of that. There is something about
her eyes that reminds me of some one, but who it is I know not."

"Thou couldst ask her," suggested Margaret.

"I scarcely like to do that," said I. "But I will think about it,
Margaret."

I was wicked enough to kiss her, when I let her go.

This morning Sister Ada told me that the Lady Joan had asked leave to
learn illuminating, so she would spend her mornings henceforth in the
illumination chamber. That will bring her with Margaret, who is much
there. Perchance she may tell her something.

It would be strange to see a niece or cousin of one's very own! I
marvel if she be akin to us. Somehow, since I had that night watch with
Margaret, my heart does not feel exactly the dry, dead thing it used to
do in times past. I fancy I could love a