lt. In the character of a beautiful and
sensible woman, and not at all in that of a Mother Superior, she had
warmly commended my suit of Sylvia Raynor. With our regard for Sylvia as
a basis, we had consulted, we had confided, we had shown ourselves to
each other in a most frank and friendly manner.

Suddenly she had changed, she had deserted me without a word of
explanation, and the next time I saw her she was totally opposed to my
maintaining any connection whatever with Sylvia.

But there had been more than this. This woman, beautiful even in her
gray garb, had shown an increasing interest in the subject, which could
not be altogether explained by her interest in Sylvia. If she truly
believed that that young sister would devote her life to the service of
the House of Martha, that matter might be considered as settled; and
what was her object in so earnestly endeavoring to impress upon my mind
the fact that I could not marry Sylvia? It might be supposed that, in
the ordinary course of events, I should be compelled to admit this
point. But not only did she continually bring up this view of the
subject, but she showed such a growing interest in me and my welfare
that it made me uneasy.

It is almost impossible truly to understand a woman; most men will admit
this. I could not say that I understood Mother Anastasia. At times I
hoped I did not understand her. From what I knew of the constitution of
the sisterhood, some of its members were vowed to it for life, and
others for a stated period. Putting together this and that which Mother
Anastasia had said to me about the organization, it did not appear to me
that she felt that devotion to it which a sister for life would
naturally feel. She had used all the art of a logician to impress upon
me the conviction that Sylvia was a life sister, and could be nothing
else. Was it possible--I scarcely dared to ask myself the question--that
she had used the arts of a woman to intimate to me that she might be
something else? It did not cross my mind for an instant that anything
that Mother Anastasia had said to me, or anything that could be deduced
from her manner, was in the slightest degree out of the way. A woman has
a right to indicate her position in regard to a fellow-being, and in
this age she generally does indicate it. If the true nature of Mother
Anastasia had so far exerted itself as to impel her, perhaps
involuntarily, to let me know that she was as much a woman as she wa