kinswoman, if I had one.

Sister Gaillarde said such a strange thing to me to-day. I was
remarking that the talk in the recreation-room was so often vapid and
foolish--all about such little matters: we never seemed to take an
interest in any great or serious subject.

"Sister Annora," said she, with one of her grim smiles, "I always looked
to see you turn out a reformer."

"Me!" cried I.

"You," said she.

"But a reformer is a great, grand man, with a hard head, and a keen wit,
and a ready tongue!" said I.

"Why should it not be a woman with a soft heart?" quoth Sister
Gaillarde.

"_Ha, jolife_!" cried I. "Sister Gaillarde, you may be cut out for a
reformer, but I am sure I am not."

I looked up as I spoke, and saw the Lady Joan's dark grey eyes upon me.

"What is to be reformed. Mother?" said she.

"Why, if each of us would reform herself, I suppose the whole house
would be reformed," I answered.

"Capital!" said Sister Gaillarde. "Let's set to work."

"Who will begin?" said Sister Ismania.

"Every body will be the second," replied Sister Gaillarde, "except those
who have begun already: that's very plain!"

"I expect every body will be the last," said Margaret.

Sister Gaillarde nodded, as if she meant Amen.

"Well, thank goodness, I want no reforms," said Sister Ada.

"Nor any reforming?" said Sister Gaillarde.

"Certainly not," she answered. "I always do my duty--always. Nobody
can lay any thing else to my charge." And she looked round with an air
that seemed to say, "Deny it if you can!"

"It is manifest," observed Sister Gaillarde gravely, "that our Sister
Ada is the only perfect being among us. I am not perfect, by any means:
and really, I feel oppressed by the company of a seraph. I'm not nearly
good enough. Perchance, Sister Ada, you would not mind my sitting a
little further off."

And actually, she rose and went over to the other side of the room.
Sister Ada tossed her head,--not as I should expect a seraph to do: then
she too rose, and walked out of the room. Sister Ismania had laughingly
followed Sister Gaillarde: so that the Lady Joan, Margaret, and I, were
alone in that corner.

"My mother had a Book of Evangels," said the Lady Joan, "in which I have
sometimes read: and I remember, it said, `be ye perfect,' The priests
say only religious persons can be perfect: yet our Lord, when He said
it, was not speaking to them, but just to the common people who were His
discipl