Mlle. Yvonne flutteringly let them into the garden, Mlle. Corinne into the house. The conversation was in English, for, though Sister Constance was French, Sister St. Anne, young, fair, and the chief speaker, was Irish. They came from Sister Superior Veronique, they said, to see further about mesdemoiselles entering, eh----
Smilingly mesdemoiselles fluttered more than ever. "Ah, yes, yes! Well, you know, sinze we talk ab-out that with the archbishop we've talk' ab-out it with our niece al-so, and we think she's got to get marrie' befo' we can do that, biccause to live al-lone that way she's too young. But we 'ave the 'ope she's goin' to marry, and then----!"
"Have you made a will?"
"Will! Ah, we di'n' never think of that! Tha'z a marvellouz we di'n' never think of that--when we are the two-third' owner' of that lovely proprity there! And we think tha'z always improving in cozt, that place, biccause so antique an' so pittoresque. And if Aline she marrie' and we, we join that asylum1 doubtlezz Aline she'll be rij-oice' to combine with us to leave that lovely proprity ad the lazt to the church! Biccause, you know, to take that to heaven with us, tha'z impossible, and the church tha'z the nearez' we can come." Odd as the moment seemed for them, tears rolled down their smiling faces.
"But"--they dried their eyes--"there's another thing also bisside'. We are, all three, the authorezz' of a story that we are prettie sure tha'z accept' by the publisher'; an' of co'ze if tha'z accept'--and if those publisher' they don' swin'le us, like so oftten--we don't need to be orphan2' never any mo', and we'll maybe move up-town and juz' keep that proprity here for a souvenir of our in-fancy. But that be two-three days yet biffo' we can be sure ab-oud that. Maybe ad the laz' we'll 'ave to join the asylum, but tha'z our hope, to move up town into the quartier nouveau and that beautiful 'garden diztric'.' But we'll always con-tinue to love the old 'ouse here. 'Tis a very genuine ancient relique, that 'ouse. You see those wall'? Solid plank3 of two inch' and from Kentucky!" They went through the whole story--the house, the relics4 of their childhood--"Go you, Yvonne, fedge them!"
The meek5 religieuses did their best to be both interested and sincere, but somehow found diplomacy6 to escape the "li'l' lake" and its goldfish, and even took the piety7 of the cat with a dampening absence of mind. Their departure was almost hurried. There was nothing to do on either side, the four agreed, but to wait the turn of events.
The two gray robes and white bonnets8 had but just got away when the bell rang again and Mlle. Yvonne let in Mme. De l'Isle and Mrs. Chester.
But these calls were in mid-afternoon. The evening previous--"Show Mr. Chester to three-thirty-three," the hotel clerk had said, and presently Mrs. Chester was all but perishing in the arms of her son.
"Geoffry! Geoffry! you needn't be
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