These mutual relatives welcomed me very kindly to New York. Just across the way lived two cousins, Mr. and Mrs. Charles H. Ward, to whom we were much attached. Cousin Mary was only related to us by marriage, but her husband’s relatives were delighted to adopt her as their own. To her joyous and generous soul it was a great pleasure to make other people happy. In her youth she had had so many admirers that it was jokingly said she had gone through the alphabet and stopped at “W” because that was as far as she could go! One young man fell so much in love with her that he disguised himself as a gardener and entered her father’s employ. The most intimate friend of my girlhood, Louise Darling, had preceded me to New York. She had entered the Protestant Episcopal Sisterhood of Saint Mary, and was now Sister Constance. Her friends and parents had in vain remonstrated against this step. Yet we might have seen that it was in accord with her natural bent of mind. Brought up as a Unitarian, she had always been very devout, and while still very young had contemplated becoming a missionary. Not long after leaving school she became a convert to the Episcopal faith, devoting herself enthusiastically to church work. When she entered the convent her heavy, beautiful blond hair was all cut off, for St. Mary’s is a High Church sisterhood. In her girdle of black rope were tied three knots, representing the three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. The late Rev. Morgan Dix, at that time a single man, was the Father Confessor of the establishment. I never could understand by what process of logic he could reconcile his encouragement of celibacy in such a young, enthusiastic woman as my friend, with his own later entrance into matrimony. Perhaps he changed his mind—but Sister Constance had taken the vows! The sisterhood did not spend all their time in devotional exercises, but engaged also in good works. Sister Constance painted religious pictures and taught in the school. She seemed entirely happy in her new life. I went to see her whenever I could, but she could not call upon us—or she thought she could not. She was one of those persons who carry out thoroughly whatever they had undertaken. After our marriage Uncle Richard Ward kindly invited us to come and live with him. Although we did not accept the offer, it was gratifying.