"Oh, certainly!" she replied. "The dear nuns will do anything for me. Their order is one of perpetual adoration, and their rules are very strict, but they do not apply them to their old pupils, and I am one of their great favorites."
"Naturally!" I observed. "And will you also join in the service of perpetual adoration?"
"Oh, yes!"
"It needs an untainted soul like yours," I said, with a satirical smile, which she did not see, "to pray before the unveiled Host without being conscience-smitten! I envy you your privilege. I could not do it--but YOU are probably nearer to the angels than we know. And so you will pray for me?"
She raised her eyes with devout gentleness. "I will indeed!"
"I thank you!"--and I choked back the bitter contempt and disgust I had for her hypocrisy as I spoke--"I thank you heartily--most heartily! Addio!"
She came or rather floated to my side, her white garments trailing about her and the gold of her hair glittering in the mingled glow of the firelight and the wintery sunbeams that shone through the window. She looked up--a witch-like languor lay in her eyes--her red lips pouted.
"Not one kiss before you go?" she said.