“That’s he!” she cried. “You’re a mocking bird as well as a tanager, as you call yourself, Cis! The paper last Sunday had Miss Lucas’ picture on the society page, with Mr. Herbert Dale’s, and said they’d be married on the 10th of next month, in our church, with a Nuptial Mass. Is Mr. Dale a Catholic, Cis?” “Not enough to notice, I think,” said Cis. “His people are. The Lucases are strict; I suspect that sweet Jeanette will make him toe the mark when it comes to the wedding. Probably she’s got a candle burning all the time before the Lourdes shrine, and means to make him a saint at the end of six months. Wish she may! I’m sure I don’t really know but he’s going that way on his own, but I honestly hate his voice!” “Aren’t you queer, Cis? You don’t often get down on anyone; you’re pretty sure to give everyone the benefit of the doubt,” cried Nan, wondering. Then she hesitated, and whispered: “Did you go to the seven o’clock yesterday, Cis, dear?” Cis shook her head, her color mounting slightly. “I didn’t see you at the eight o’clock Mass, as usual,” persisted Nan timidly, for Cicely looked forbidding. “Good reason why,” said Cis shortly. “I wasn’t there. And I didn’t go to Late Mass, so don’t go on to that, Nan; I didn’t go at all.” “Oh, Cicely dear!” Pain crept into Nan’s words, though they were whispered. “Well! Oh, Nan dear!” Cis tried to laugh at her. “Yes, I know I’m bad, but I was so tired! I was out till after one, danced, and ate such a supper! I did mean to go to the eight, but I turned over, stretched and--” Cis made a slight gesture that conveyed the suggestion of a passage beyond daily affairs. “Cis, oh, Cis! And you are so fine, so splendid! Why don’t you make it perfect? You’re a Catholic,” sighed loving Nan, her gentle eyes clouded. “I’m nothing else, at least, Nanny, but it doesn’t bother me a great deal, all this that has to do with such far-off things! I’m sorry, nice little Nan! I will brace up, I promise you, and go to Mass Sundays. When I get there, it’s hot and crowded, and I’m just there in my body, and not my mind, and it’s a mighty uncomfortable body, I can tell you that! I wonder if it makes much difference whether you go or not, when you go like an oyster? Sorry, Nanny,” Cis said again, seeing how grieved Nan looked. “I didn’t have your training; maybe that’s it. I went to public school and high school, and my mother died when I was eight, and my father was no good, and went off to his own ways when I was a baby, so I’m kind of a hybrid Catholic-heathen! Sorry, nice little Nan!” “You’re the biggest girl I know, the truest and finest, and I’m sure God will pull you to Him. You’re too great to miss the Greatest,” said Nan, with such earnestness in spite of her muffled voice, and with such a light in her eyes, that careless Cicely was impressed. “Put your candle beside Miss Jeanette Lucas’,” she said, knowing that the look in Nan’s eyes foretold prayers for her beloved Cicely’s safety.