‘It is close by,’ said Agnes--then looked at him again, with a shade of doubt on her face. He was not like the sort of person to visit Sister Mary Jane; still if he brought subscriptions, had she any right to stop him? She went along by his side for another moment, demure and quiet. As for Oswald, between his terror of awakening her suspicions and his desire to laugh at his own dissimulation, his usual readiness quite failed him. He, too, walked by her as grave as a judge. He dared not look at her lest he should laugh, and he dared not laugh lest he should destroy his chances once and for all. ‘I have seen convents abroad,’ he said at last, ‘but none in England. Forgive my curiosity; are the same rules observed? Is there a Lady Superior, Abbess, or Prioress, or----, don’t be angry with me if I show my ignorance.’ ‘I never was abroad,’ said Agnes. ‘There is a Sister Superior, that is all.’ ‘Then I suppose the Abbesses exist only in books,’ he said, with an insinuating smile. ‘I have not read many books.’ Then she thought she was perhaps uncivil to a man who was coming with a subscription. ‘Papa did not approve of light books, and I have not much time for reading now.’ ‘You have not been there long? Is the routine severe? Don’t think I am asking from mere curiosity,’ said Oswald; ‘indeed I have a motive in wishing to know.’ ‘Oh, no, not severe; there is a great deal to do. We have to attend to all the children. If you are fond of children it is not at all hard; but what one wishes for is to be quiet sometimes,’ said Agnes, ‘That is not so easy when the place is so full.’ ‘Ah! I know a girl who has too much quiet, who would like to be in a full house and hear other people’s voices.’ ‘Lots are very different in this world,’ said Agnes, with gentle wisdom; ‘one cannot tell which to choose; the only safe thing is to do one’s best; to aim at something good.’ ‘Or to make the best of what we have,’ said Oswald. A flush of sudden colour came to her face. ‘It is surely best to aim at something above us,’ she said, with some confusion; ‘just to be content cannot be the highest good, if what we have by nature is nothing but what others can do just as well; is not that a reason for taking the matter into one’s own hands and trying something better?’ Special pleading! He could see in her eyes, in her every expression, that this was her own case which she was arguing with such warmth, and that indeed there was some doubt in her mind as to this highest idea which she had followed. And in the fervour of the self-argument she had forgotten that she did not know him, and that he had no right to be walking thus familiarly by her side. ‘The worst is,’ he said, ‘that when we follow an ideal, the result is sometimes disappointment. Have you not found it so?’