anxious not to be burdened with useless girls.”
She showed Kitty the dormitories and then they passed a door on which was painted the word infirmerie. Kitty heard groans and loud cries and sounds as though beings not human were in pain.
“I will not show you the infirmary,” said the Mother Superior in her placid tones. “It is not a sight that one would wish to see.” A thought struck her. “I wonder if Dr. Fane is there?”
She looked interrogatively at the Sister and she, with her merry smile, opened the door and slipped in. Kitty shrank back as the open door allowed her to hear more horribly the tumult within. Sister St. Joseph came back.
“No, he has been and will not be back again till later.”
“What about number six?”
“Pauvre garçon, he’s dead.”
The Mother Superior crossed herself and her lips moved in a short and silent prayer.
They passed by a courtyard and Kitty’s eyes fell upon two long shapes that lay side by side on the ground covered with a piece of blue cotton. The Superior turned to Waddington.
“We are so short of beds that we have to put two patients in one and the moment a sick man dies he must be bundled out in order to make room for another.” But she gave Kitty a smile. “Now we will show you our chapel. We are very proud of it. One of our friends in France sent us a little while ago a life-size statue of the Blessed Virgin.”
