Tales of the Cloister
waiting audience the farewell words that had come so easily to her tongue during the rehearsals of the past week. She must do it, and do it well. It was the closing act of her school life, and she ought to leave as pleasant a memory behind her as she took away. In her heart she knew she would. She usually did things well—this calm, self-contained pupil of whom the nuns expected so much. Then, too, she reflected, Sister Estelle would be in the wings with her, and Sister Estelle would help her if she faltered. Dear Sister Estelle, who had never failed her from the day she had been brought to the convent, a little child, and given to the sweet-faced nun as a special charge.
To-day they were to part, she and this woman who had been the strongest element in her life for twelve years—guide, philosopher, teacher, sister, mother, all in one. After to day she could call at the convent at proper intervals and talk to Sister Estelle—perhaps through the wire grating in the little reception-room. Her heart contracted at the thought. She had never before rebelled against a rule of the great institution, but this seemed very hard. The proper intervals would be far between, she reflected, with some bitterness. She was to go to Chicago the next day to begin the
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