Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the cloister.djvu/217

 a word, took the slender, emaciated figure in her strong arms, and carried it to a reclining-chair. It was a pathetically light burden, though Sister Rodriguez looked with deep respect at the superbly formed woman who bore it, and who had won so enviable a position in the big world that the knowledge of it had penetrated even to the convent pharmacy. She went away and left them together, speechless, the visitor's dark head buried in Sister Estelle's lap.

"Oh, why—why did you not tell me?" she cried at last. The hand that lay on her lap trembled slightly.

"Why should I, dear?" the nun asked. "You could have done nothing—even you could have done nothing for me." There was a caress as well as a compliment in the words. "Weak lungs are not in your line of work. And I was so proud of you, so anxious for you to be the successful woman you are. It is a great gift you have, my dear child—this ability to relieve and save. I could not distract you in your work, as you would have been distracted if you had known. And now I am happy, for I have been permitted to remain until you came, and to see you again."

Dr. Van Nest kissed the thin hands