attuning herself, as she said, after her work among the restive
children of her school.

When she looked upon her friend and recalled the bitter words Albert
had spoken against her, Elise felt their injustice. It was true, as
she had told him, he did not understand Sister Benigna.

Sitting down beside the window, Elise began to busy herself over the
dainty basket she was elaborately decorating. After a few moments
Sister Benigna left the piano and stood looking at Elise and her work.
She had something to say, but how should she say it? how approach the
heart which had wrapped itself up in sorrow and surrounded itself with
the guards of silence?

Presently Elise looked at her, but not until she had so long resisted
the inclination to do so that there was something like violence in the
effort. When her eyes met the gaze of Sister Benigna the warm blood
rushed to her cheeks, and she looked quickly down again. Did Sister
Benigna know yet about the letter Mr. Wenck had written?

A sad smile appeared on Benigna's face. She shook her head. If she did
not know what had happened, she no doubt understood that some kind of
trouble had entered the house.

Drawing a roll of needlework from her pocket, she quietly occupied
herself with it until Elise, unable to endure the silence longer,
said, "Oh, Sister Benigna, is it not time we did something about the
Sisters' House? I have been reading about one: I forget where it is.
What a beautiful Home you and I could make for poor people, and sick
girls not able to work, and old women! We ought to have such a Home in