"No, sister; my cousin," and then, in answer to her questions, I began, nothing loth, to tell her of my home in Somersetshire. Presently she dropped the silk, and I saw she was weeping bitterly. "Never mind, little maiden—you have done me good," she said at last, as I stood by her side, dismayed at her sorrow, yet feeling by instinct that it was better to let her have her cry out, without calling any one. She made a great effort to check her sobs, and presently, kissing me, she added: "I know Latin, and I will teach you, if the mother is willing." "I am sure she will be willing!" I answered. "She said herself it was a pity I should lose what I had gained." And the mother passing at the moment, I preferred my petition to her. I think she was unfeignedly pleased to see poor Sister Denys interested in any thing. She did not go through the usual form of referring to the prioress, as indeed, she was not obliged to do, she having the whole care of the novices and pupils, but bade me fetch my books, which had been sent me from London, and take a lesson on the spot. For a while these lessons went on very prosperously. Sister Denys was a good Latin scholar, and finding that I was diligent, reasonably quick, and liked learning for its own sake, she began also to teach me French. All that winter I studied hard, and between Sister Denys, Sister Cicely, with her music lessons, and Sister Theresa, with her embroidery, I had my hands full. I did no more work than was good for me, and had plenty of play and sleep, and, on the whole, I was very well content with my new home, though I used, now and then, to have fits of longing after my Aunt Joyce and my cousins. One day in spring, I was called to the parlor. Supposing I was wanted to do some errand—I was errand-boy, or rather girl, for the establishment—I went carelessly enough. The prioress was there, with her attendant sisters and mother assistant, and as I came forward to the wide grating that divided the room, I found myself face to face with my aunt and cousins. What a meeting it was! Aunt Joyce had grown older and looked careworn, and the twins were a head taller, but that was all the change. The mother assistant whispered to the prioress, who assented. "There, you may go outside the grating and speak to your aunt and cousins, child!" said she. "You are not professed; so it can do no harm." In another minute I was in my aunt's arms, smothered with kisses, and turning from one to the other in a very bewilderment of joy. I could not help hoping for a moment that they had come to take me away, but my hopes were quickly dashed.