nge, if it be
as you say."

"It'll take a precious deal of grace to change some folks!" said Sister
Gaillarde, satirically. "Hope many of them won't want it at once, or
there'll be such a run upon the treasury there'll be none left for you
and me. Well! that's foolish talk. My tongue runs away with me now and
then. Don't get quite out of patience with your silly old Sister
Gaillarde. Ah! perhaps I should have been a wiser woman, and a better
too, if something had not happened to me that curdled the milk of my
human kindness, and sent me in here, just because I could not bear
outside any longer--could not bear to see what had been mine given to
another--well, well! We are all poor old sinners, we Sisters. And as
to perfection--my belief is that any woman may be perfect in any life,
so far as that means having a true heart towards God, and an honest wish
to do His will rather than our own--and I don't believe in perfection of
any other sort. As to all that rubbish men talk about having no will at
all, and being delighted to mortify your will, and so forth--my service
to the lot of it. Why, what you like to have crossed isn't your will;
what you delight in can't be mortification. It is just like playing at
being good. Eh, dear me, there are some simpletons in this world!
Well, good-night, Sister: _pax tibi_!"

Sister Gaillarde's hand was on the latch when she looked back.

"There, now I'm forgetting half of what I had to tell you. Father
Hamon's going away."

"Is he?--whither?"

"Can't say. I hope our next confessor will be a bit more alive."

"Father Benedict is alive, I am sure."

"Father Benedict's a draught of vinegar, and Father Hamon's been a bowl
of curds. I should like somebody betwixt."

And Sister Gaillarde left me.

She guessed not ill, for I had my lecture in due course. Sister Ada
came into my cell--had she bidden me to hers, I should have had a chance
to leave, but of course I could not turn her forth--and told me she had
been for long time deeply concerned at my want of spiritual discernment.
"Truly, Sister, no more than I am," said I. "Now, Sister, you reckon
me unkindly, I cast no doubt," saith she: "but verily I must be faithful
with you. You take too much upon you,--you who are but just promoted to
your office--and are not ready enough to learn of those who have had
more experience. In short, Sister Annora, you are very much wanting in
true humility."

"Indeed, Sister Ada,