Tales of the Cloister
were, of course, pleasant things in the new life, and she tried to find them. Once or twice she threw herself into the gayeties of the season with an abandon that surprised her friends and horrified her into rigorous penance when the reaction came. It was all a part of the experiment, of the test she had resolved to make. Once only the question of marriage had for a moment seemed of a vital importance it had never worn for her before. It was when the Honorable Edward Carrington, of England, asked her to be his wife. When she said no it was with the feeling that had he sought her with more convincing ardor something in her soul would have awakened. She would not marry unless her heart was touched, and perfunctory attention could not stir that to love.
Through all, the convent seemed to call to her. "We shall always hold you in our hearts," the Superior had said. No one else had ever said as much. Under the most brilliant ballroom music, the notes of the chapel organ throbbed in her ears. No banquet hall was so attractive as the memory of the stone refectory with the silent nuns seated round its simple pine tables. No grounds were so pleasant as the convent garden, with the scent of its homely flowers filling the air. There was her home; there were the hearts that held her. She filled
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