Ragna was making a water colour drawing in the assembly room, when a Sister brought her the order to go at once to the Reverend Mother. She put by her brushes with trembling hands, and the black-robed Sister observed her emotion curiously, but kindly. "There, there, my child!" she said, "Reverend Mother will do you no harm; she wishes to ask you a question, nothing more. If your conscience is good, what do you fear?" Ragna followed her without answering, her mind intent on the pending interview. The Superior's sitting-room was a comfortable apartment; a table stood in the middle, and at one window a large writing desk. One of the walls was occupied by a bookcase, another by a large carved _prie-dieu_ over which hung an ivory crucifix and a silver holy-water stoup with its twig of box. Mother Marie Sacré Coeur, sat in a large carved armchair by the table. She was a tall, slender woman, and her face, though unlined and delicate as a piece of carved ivory, bore the imprint of long years of responsibility, and conveyed the impression of a wonderful degree of will power. It was not altogether an ascetic face, however, the grey eyes, though keen, were human, and the strong firmly modelled mouth had a humorous twist. The hands, long, slender and white with rather thick thumbs, were lightly clasped over a Book of Hours bound in velvet and silver. By her side stood the Mère in charge of Astrid's dormitory, Mère Perpétua, a severe, sour-looking woman, yellow under her white guimpe and black veil. Astrid cowered beside her, looking like a prisoner in the grasp of a gendarme; she had been crying, but her eyes had a furtive expression and her weak, pretty mouth was set in obstinate lines. She looked like a trapped animal, badly frightened, but feebly at bay. On the table lay a little pile of crumpled papers, and the ribbon that had bound them. They all looked eagerly at Ragna as she entered, followed by Soeur Angélique; she glanced at them each in turn, and from Astrid's eyes caught such an agonized appeal for help that her back straightened, and it was with a calm, almost defiant consciousness of definite purpose that she met the Superior's interrogating gaze. "Ragna," said the Reverend Mother, "we have called you here to ascertain how much you know of this disgraceful affair. Mère Perpétua has found these letters," she indicated the little heap on the table, "hidden in Astrid's mattress. I have read them, they are letters such as no young girl should receive from any man, even her fiancé. Our Rule has been broken by this clandestine correspondence, and our sense of propriety outraged; we are profoundly shocked and grieved." "Such deceit! Such disgraceful effrontery! She brazenly denies they are hers!" broke in Mère Perpétua, her lean face working. "Silence!" cried the Superior. "Mère Perpétua, you forget yourself. I had not desired you to speak." She paused a moment, then addressed Ragna.