eceding day, and Sister Louise thought she would very likely
need a little cheering.

"How are you to-day, Mrs. Brady!" she asked, bending over her.

"Why then indeed, ma'am--is it ma'am or Mother I ought to call ye?"

"'Sister'--we are all Sisters here, though some of the people call
Sister Superior 'Reverend Mother.'"

"Ah, that indeed?" said Mrs. Brady, raising herself a little in the
bed and speaking with great dignity, "Ye see yous are not the sort o'
nuns I'm used to, so you'll excuse me if I don't altogether spake the
way I ought. Our nuns down in the Queen's County has black veils ye
know, ma'am--Sisther I mane--an' not that kind of a white bonnet that
you have on your head."

"Well, do you know our patients here get quite fond of our white wings
as they call them?" returned Sister Louise, smiling. "But you haven't
told me how you are, yet. Better, I hope, and pretty comfortable."

A tear suddenly rolled down Mrs. Brady's cheek, but she preserved her
lofty manner.

"Ah yes, thank ye, Sisther, as comfortable as I could expect in a
place like this. Of course I niver thought it's here' I'd be, but it's
on'y for a short time, thanks be to God! My little boy'll be comin'
home from America soon to take me out of it."

"Why, that's good news!" cried the Sister cheerfully. "We must make
you quite well and strong--that is as strong as we can"--with a
compassionate glance, "by the time he comes. When do you expect him?"

"Any day now, ma'am--Sisther, I mane--aye, indeed, I may say any day
an' every day, an' I'm afeard his heart'll be broke findin' me in this
place. But no matther!"

Here she shook her head darkly, as though she could say much on that
subject, but refrained out of consideration for Sister Louise.

"Well, we must do all we can for you meanwhile," said the latter
gently. "Have you made acquaintance with your neighbours yet? Poor
Mrs. M'Evoy here is worse off than you, for she can't lift her head
just now. Tell Mrs. Brady how it was you hurt your back, Mrs. M'Evoy."

"Bedad, Sisther, ye know yerself it was into the canal I fell wid a
can o' milk," said the old woman addressed, squinting fearfully in her
efforts to catch a glimpse of the new patient. "The Bishop says the
last time he come round, 'I s'pose,' he says, 'ye were goin' to put
wather in the milk.' 'No,' says I, 'there was wather enough in it
before.'"

Here Mrs. M'Evoy leered gleefully up at the Sister, and one or two
feeble chuckles