At the end of the main street, where the trees began again, the convent stood in the middle of a large garden, and Pat Phelan remembered he had heard that the nuns were doing well with their dairy and their laundry. He knocked, and a lay-sister peeped through the grating, and then she opened the door a little way, and at first he thought he would have to go back without seeing either Catherine or the Reverend Mother. For he had got no further than "Sister Catherine," when the lay-sister cut him short with the news that Sister Catherine was in retreat, and could see no one. The Reverend Mother was busy. "But," said Pat, "you're not going to let Catherine take vows without hearing me." "If it is about Sister Catherine's vows--" "Yes, it is about them I've come, and I must see the Reverend Mother." The lay-sister said Sister Catherine was going to be clothed at the end of the week. "Well, that is just the reason I've come here." On that the lay-sister led him into the parlour, and went in search of the Reverend Mother. The floor was so thickly bees-waxed that the rug slipped under his feet, and, afraid lest he might fall down, he stood quite still, impressed by the pious pictures on the walls, and by the large books upon the table, and by the poor-box, and by the pious inscriptions. He began to think how much easier was this pious life than the life of the world--the rearing of children, the failure of crops, and the loneliness. Here life slips away without one perceiving it, and it seemed a pity to bring her back to trouble. He stood holding his hat in his old hands, and the time seemed very long. At last the door opened, and a tall woman with sharp, inquisitive eyes came in. "You have come to speak to me about Sister Catherine?" "Yes, my lady." "And what have you got to tell me about her?" "Well, my son thought and I thought last night--we were all thinking we had better tell you--last night was the night that my son came back." At the word Maynooth a change of expression came into her face, but when he told that Peter no longer wished to be a priest her manner began to grow hostile again, and she got up from her chair and said:-- "But really, Mr. Phelan, I have got a great deal of business to attend to." "But, my lady, you see that Catherine wanted to marry my son Peter, and it is because he went to Maynooth that she came here. I don't think she'd want to be a nun if she knew that he didn't want to be a priest." "I cannot agree with you, Mr. Phelan, in that. I have seen a great deal of Sister Catherine--she has been with us now for nearly a year--and if she ever entertained the wishes you speak of, I feel sure she has forgotten them. Her mind is now set on higher things." "Of course you may be right, my lady, very likely. It isn't for me to argue with you about such things; but you see I have come a long way, and if I could see Catherine herself--" "That is impossible. Catherine is in retreat."