't you glad?" said Lillie to
her little companion and neighbor as they hurried to school.

"Indeed I am. But it's so long in coming!" sighed Constance. "The
days never seemed to go so slowly before."

"I have made a calendar, and every morning I cross off a date; there
are already seven gone since the 1st of May," explained Lillie, with a
satisfied air, as if she had discovered the secret of adding "speed to
the wings of time." "We shall not have a great while to wait now."

Was it a grand holiday that our young friends were anticipating so
eagerly, or the summer vacation, now drawing near? One might suppose
something of the kind. But not at all. On the approaching Feast of
the Ascension they were to make their First Communion; and, being
convent-bred little girls, every thought and act had been directed to
preparation for this great event, to which they looked forward with the
artless fervor natural to innocent childhood. No one must imagine,
however, that they were diminutive prudes, with long faces. Is not a
girl or boy gayest when his or her heart has no burden upon it? In
fact, it would have been hard to find two merrier folk, even upon this
bright spring morning.

Lillie was a sprightly creature, who, somehow, always reminded Sister
Agnes of one of the angels in Murillo's picture, "The Immaculate
Conception,"--a lively, happy-go-lucky, rollicking angel, who plays
hide-and-seek among the folds of Our Lady's mantle, and appears almost
beside himself with the gladness of heaven's sunlight. Yet Lillie was
by no means an angel. She had her faults of course, and these often
sadly tried the patience of the good Sister. She was quick-tempered,
volatile, inclined to be a trifle vain. Alas that it is so hard to
keep a child's heart like a garden enclosed as with a fragrant hedge,
laden with the blossoms of sweet thoughts,--safely shut in from the
chilling winds of worldliness! She was lovable withal, generous,
affectionate, and would make a fine woman if properly trained.

Constance, a year older, was more sedate, though with plenty of quiet
fun about her. But, as a general thing, she knew when to be serious
and when to play,--a bit of wisdom which Sister Agnes frequently wished
she could manage to impart to the others of the band of aspirants, of
whom the gentle nun had special charge.

Constance and Lillie were nearly always together. Now, as they
tripped, onward, they were as happy as the birds in th