“Poor little Frances! Bertha writes in the greatest terror and distress. Those convent people have actually telegraphed that she is very ill indeed, and in danger. Something about the Last Sacraments. They don’t say anything about wanting Bertie to go there, and in any case she’s not able to leave Frederick. But Rosamund went down there yesterday.” Morris felt vaguely resentful. He disliked hearing of anyone else’s grief or anxiety, and he thought his mother’s agitation distinctly overdone. “I hope she’s better by this time,” he said with reserve. Nina turned slowly away, her hand pressed to her heart, every symptom of distress emphasized in contrast to Morris’ obvious desire to be rid of the subject. “This is a heavier blow to me than you can realize, my poor boy,” she murmured in stricken accents. “It has been mother and daughter between Frances and me.” XXVI Rosamund, sick with anxiety, sat in the hideous little convent parlour, waiting. Presently the door opened, and Mrs. Mulholland entered creakingly. “Miss Grantham, isn’t it? Ah yes! I remember you quite well at Sister Frances Mary’s Clothing--dear me, how little we thought then--less than a year ago, wasn’t it, and now--well, well! God’s Holy Will be done! But the very day I learnt she was ill I said: ‘Ah dear, now, to think that such a little while ago I saw her taking the habit,’ I said; ‘God’s ways are not our ways,’ I said.” “When am I going to see her?” asked Rosamund with white lips. “Ah,” said Mrs. Mulholland, shaking her head, and appearing to think that she had given an adequate reply. She sat down heavily. “Now I want you to listen to me a moment, my dear child. You don’t mind my calling you so? No--that’s right. We’re all little children in the sight of God, is what I always say, and I’m sure you feel like that too. “Now I wonder if you know why I’ve been sent in here to you?” Rosamund shook her head dumbly. Mrs. Mulholland’s words barely penetrated to her outer senses, and her mind was tense with waiting for a summons that surely could no longer delay. “Well, our Assistant Superior, Mother Carolina, whom you’ve seen already, sent for me, because she thought I might be of a little help to you. She’s very busy, Mother Carolina, very much distressed and grieved at our dear Mother Pauline’s illness, though it’s nothing very serious, thank God--and very much harassed and overworked with all the responsibilities that have fallen on her shoulders. But she found time to send for me, because she thought I might be of more comfort to you, not being a nun, and you being unused to convents and religious, than one of the community. Now that,” said Mrs. Mulholland impressively, “is what I call great delicacy of feeling. But that’s Mother Carolina all over. Nothing if not thoughtful. ‘_C’est la mère aux petits soins_,’ is what I always say about her.” She looked at Rosamund’s white, inattentive face.