eturn at nine the next morning, left the room in company with the
nun. The latter, when she arose from the table, turned her back to me,
and went out without giving me the slightest opportunity of looking into
her cavernous bonnet. This she did, I must admit, in the most natural
way possible, which was probably the result of training, and gave one no
idea of rudeness or incivility.

When they were gone I was piqued, almost angry with myself. I had
intended stopping work a little before noon, in order to talk to that
nun, even if she did not answer or look at me. She should discover that
if she was a principle, I was, at least, an entity. I did not know
exactly what I should say to her, but it would be something one human
being would be likely to say to another human being who was working for
him. If from the first I put myself on the proper level, she might in
time get there. But although I had lost my present chance, she was
coming again the next day.

I entered the secretary's room by the hall door, and looked at the
manuscript which had been left on the table. It was written in an
excellent hand, not too large, very legible, and correctly punctuated.
Everything had been done properly, except that after the first three
pages she had forgotten to number the leaves at the top; but as every
sheet was placed in its proper order, this was an omission which could
be easily rectified. I was very glad she had made it, for it would give
me something to speak to her about.

At luncheon my grandmother asked me how I liked the new secretary, and
added that if she did not suit me I could try another next day. I
answered that so far she suited me, and that I had not the least wish at
present to try another. I think my grandmother was about to say
something regarding this sister, but I instantly begged her not to do
so. I wished to judge her entirely on her merits, I said, and would
rather not hear anything about her until I had come to a decision as to
her abilities. I did not add that I felt such an interest in the
anticipated discovery of the personality of this secretary that I did
not wish that discovery interfered with.

In the evening Walkirk inquired about the sister-amanuensis, but I
merely answered that so far she had done very well, and dropped the
subject. In my own mind I did not drop the subject until I fell asleep
that night. I found myself from time to time wondering what sort of a
woman was that nun. Was she an