Elizabeth G. Jordan

“ Mary's it seemed to her like stepping out of the marching ranks of a great army into the cool shade of a way-side chapel. Life during the two years between her graduation and this return to the convent as a candidate for the veil had been bearing her forward too swiftly. She felt breathless from its rush, panic-stricken from the sense of pressure on all sides, horrified by the contrast between the feverish turmoil of living "out in the world" and the restful serenity of life within the cloister walls. Above and beyond all, a great loneliness had oppressed her in the world. ”

“ 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. ”

“ She must remain a lie until the end—a nun mistaken in her vocation, with no love for it in her heart, yet respected by her associates and pupils for the qualities she had not. She was an impostor! Nature or God, or both, had shown it to her here, in the sanctuary she was profaning by her vows.
Above her the music throbbed tremulously. A single voice, Sister Cecilia's, took up the organ's refrain and carried it forward with a suggestion of triumph in the rich tones. Her face was raised to the arched dome of the chapel, and in her pure eyes burned the light of religious exaltation. ”

“ She must go out into the world, make her début, and become a part of society. She had been dreaming long enough, her guardian added, as he went on to outline more definitely the career that awaited her. She listened quietly, hearing above his precise utterances the murmur of girlish voices down in the garden, the soft ringing of the chapel bell, the almost noiseless footfalls of shadowy figures moving along the halls. ”

“ Then the morning of the final ceremony arrived, and the nearest and dearest of those who had known and loved the candidates for the black veil crowded the convent chapel to see them sever the last tie that bound them to the outside world.
Fifty were to do this. The soft notes of the organ filled the chapel, and the friends of the novices turned wet eyes towards the door through which they were to enter. The heavy odor of many flowers was in the air, and clouds of incense rose to the blue dome. Outside, waiting horses pawed noisily in the usually quiet street. ”

“ She herself had never known love—a mother's, a sister's. No, nor man's for the chosen woman. So she had not to renounce such devotion as her associates were sacrificing in the last act of their worldly lives. ”

“ One of the sons of the house followed her to the alcove where she had hidden herself to look at the gayety of others unheeded in her retreat.
"Why in the world," he said, with the patronizing censure of fifteen, "are you hiding away here? Papa is always telling us to be nice to you, but how can anybody like you when you act like this? The boys are afraid of you, and the girls say things about you. It is your own fault, too." ”

“ It was her first night in the convent; she knew none of the other pupils. One of them suddenly stole in between the curtains, and stood, a white-robed figure, behind the bed.
"You're the new girl," she said, curiously, "and Sister says you're an orphan. It must be funny to be an orphan. Mattie Crane says when you are, you have nobody to love you."
The child buried her head in the pillows and did not answer.
Now she was a young girl, at her guardian's house, and a holiday party was in progress. ”