Tales of the Cloister
out speaking. Rebellion was in her heart—rebellion against her own helplessness in the face of this disaster. The hollow voice, the bright spots in the cheeks, the brilliant eyes that shone like polished agate under the band of linen across the brow—all these things testified eloquently that Sister Estelle's "reward" was soon to come.
"Can you stay here with me until I go?" the nun asked, almost diffidently. "They have told me"—she hesitated—"that it will be but a short time. Reverend Mother has kindly given her permission for you to stay if your duties will permit."
"I will not leave you for a moment," said the other woman. She added, with an uncontrollable sob: "What shall I do, what can I do, without you? All my work has been for you—to please you. Your letters and your love have made me what I am. In every crisis of my life you have been with me; I could not have met them without you. I have come to you always, and you have never failed me. How can I live on alone?"
The sick woman looked at her with wet eyes. "Listen to me, my little girl," she said. "This may not be so great a separation as you think. The memory of me will always be with you, and you know whether I shall forget you when
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