"Well, yes--for several reasons. In the first place, I must go
somewhere, and I'd rather go there than any where else. Then, you
know, that dear, delightful holy-week will soon be here, and I'm dying
to be in Rome."

"I think it would be better for all of us," said Mrs. Willoughby,
thoughtfully--"for all of us, if we were in Rome."

"Of course it would, Kitty sweetest, and especially me. Now if I am in
Rome, I can pop into a convent whenever I choose."

"A convent!" exclaimed Mrs. Willoughby, in surprise.

"Oh yes--it's going to come to that. They're all so horrid, you know.
Besides, it's getting worse. I got a letter yesterday from Captain
Kirby, written to me in England. He didn't know I was here. He has
just arrived at London, and was leaving for our place on what he
called the wings of the wind. I expect him here at almost any time.
Isn't it dreadful, Kitty dearest, to have so many? As fast as one goes
another comes, and then they all come together; and do you know,
darling, it really makes one feel quite dizzy. I'm sure _I_ don't know
what to do. And that's why I'm thinking of a convent, you know."

"But you're not a Catholic."

"Oh yes, I am, you know. Papa's an Anglo-Catholic, and I don't see the
difference. Besides, they're all the time going over to Rome; and why
shouldn't I? I'll be a novice--that is, you know, I'll only go for a
time, and not take the vows. The more I think of it, the more I see