Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the cloister.djvu/216

 Here at last there was a change. The nun was there no more. Dr. Van Nest recalled a line in one of Sister Estelle's letters, sent to her in Paris,

It seemed a long time that she waited. When at last a step came along the hall, she rose and went forward in her impatience. It was the portress, alone, but she anticipated the words on the other's lips.

"I am to take you to the west parlor," she said. "Sister Estelle is not well enough to come to you here. She will see you there alone."

Dr. Van Nest followed her guide without a word. She kept close beside her as they walked through the halls, but the nooks and corridors where she had played as a child had now no memories for her. The gentle portress prattled on artlessly, but the visitor did not hear her words. Her mind was concentrated on the dread of what was to come. She paced the west parlor in a fever of foreboding. Then came a light step, slow and hesitating, but unmistakably the step she awaited, and Sister Estelle stood in the doorway, supported by the arm of Sister Rodriguez, the convent infirmarian. The doctor went forward