"I do not like being with strangers," she said frankly. "And I am afraid the nuns will think me a variety of heathen, for I cannot do all they will want me." "They will not, if I tell the Abbess that thou art a new convert," said Bruno. "They may very likely attempt to instruct thee." "Father, why should there be any nuns?" Beatrice did not know how she astonished Bruno. But he only smiled. "Thine eyes are unaccustomed to the light," was all he answered. "But, Father, among our people of old,--I mean," said Beatrice hesitatingly, "my mother's people--" "Go on, my Beatrice. Let it be `our people.' Speak as it is nature to thee to do." "Thank you, my father. Among our people, there were no nuns. So far from it, that for a woman to remain unwed was considered a reproach." "Why?--dost thou know?" "I think, because every woman longed for the glory of being the mother of the Messiah." "True. Therefore, Christ being come, that reproach is done away. Let each woman choose for herself. `If a virgin marry, she hath not sinned.' Nevertheless, `she that is unmarried thinks of the things of the Lord, that she may be holy, body and soul.'" "Father, do you wish _me_ to be a nun?" "Never!" hastily answered Bruno. "Nay, my Beatrice; I should not have said that. Be thou what the Lord thinks best to make thee. But I do not want to be left alone again." Beatrice's heart was set at rest. She had terribly feared for a moment lest Bruno, being himself a monk, might think her absolutely bound to be a nun. They soon reached the Franciscan Convent. The Abbess, a rather stiffly-mannered, grey-haired woman, received her young guest with sedate kindliness, and committed her to the special charge of Sister Eularia. This was a young woman of about twenty-five, in whose mind curiosity was strongly developed. She took Beatrice up to the dormitory, showed her where she was to sleep, and gave her a seat on the form beside her at supper, which was almost immediately served. Beatrice noticed that whenever Eularia helped herself to any thing edible, she made the sign of the cross over it. "Why dost thou do that?" asked the young Jewess. "It is according to our rule," replied the nun. "Surely thou knowest how to cross thyself?" "Indeed I do not. And I do not see why I should." "Poor thing!--how sadly thou lackest teaching! Dost thou not know that our Lord Christ suffered on the cross?" "Oh yes! But why must I cross myself on that account?" "In respect to Him!" exclaimed Eularia. "Pardon me. If one whom I loved were slain by the sword, I should not courtesy to every sword I saw, because I loved him. I should hate the very sight of one." Eularia was scarcely less puzzled than Beatrice. "It is the symbol of our salvation," she said. "I should look on it rather as the symbol of His suffering." "True: but He suffered for us." "For which reason I should still less admire that which made Him suffer." Eularia shrugged her shoulders.