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“MONSIEUR ne mange rien,” said Sister St. Joseph.
“Monsieur’s palate is ruined by Manchu cooking,” replied the Mother Superior.
The smile left Sister St. Joseph’s face and she assumed an expression of some primness. Waddington, a roguish glance in his eyes, took another cake. Kitty did not understand the incident.
“To prove to you how unjust you are, ma mère, I will ruin the excellent dinner that awaits me.”
“If Mrs. Fane would like to see over the convent I shall be glad to show her.” The Mother Superior turned to Kitty with a deprecating smile. “I am sorry you should see it just now when everything is in disorder. We have so much work and not enough Sisters to do it. Colonel Yü has insisted on our putting our infirmary at the disposal of sick soldiers and we have had to make the réfectoire into an infirmary for our orphans.”
She stood at the door to allow Kitty to pass and together, followed by Sister St. Joseph and Waddington, they walked along cool white corridors. They went first into a large, bare room where a number of Chinese girls were working at elaborate embroideries. They stood up when the visitors entered and the Mother Superior showed Kitty specimens of the work.
“We go on with it notwithstanding the epidemic because it takes their minds off the danger.”
