tact that put him more at ease.

"My aunt has, most kindly, promised to--to co-operate," he
finished lamely.

The anxiety faded from the Mother Superior's face and she sat down
with an air of relief, motioning Craven to a chair. But with a
curt bow he remained standing. He had no wish to prolong the
interview beyond what courtesy and business demanded. He listened
with a variety of feelings while the Nun spoke. Her earnestness he
could not fail to perceive, but it required a decided effort to
concentrate, and follow her soft well modulated voice.

She spoke slowly, with feeling that broke at times the tone she
strove to make dispassionate.

"I am glad for Gillian's sake that at last, after all these years,
there has come one who will be concerned with her future. She has
no vocation for the conventual life and--I was beginning to become
anxious. For ourselves, we shall miss her more than it is possible
to say. She had been with us so long, she has become very dear to
us. I have dreaded that her father would one day claim her. She
has been spared that contamination--God forgive me that I should
speak so." For a moment she was silent, her eyes bent on her hands
lying loosely clasped in her lap.

"Gillian is not altogether friendless," she resumed, "she will go
to you with a little more knowledge of the world than can be
gained within these old walls." She glanced round the panelled
room with half-sad affection. "She is popular and has spent