Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the cloister.djvu/243

 of it rolled over her like a great wave. Yes, she would do her duty—with all her soul would she do it. But could she bear the pain? Could she live through the next few days, hearing in her ears the voice of her mother calling to her in her delirium—as she heard it now, as she would hear it day and night—until the end? Seeing her mother's face, the soft brown eyes looking for her so eagerly—looking for her whom they would never see again. She would not go—no. She would stay, as duty and her own will dictated. But could mind and body stand the strain? Could she listen to that voice, that dearly loved voice, calling, calling—and calling in vain? It was in her ears now, in the silent chapel. Would she ever cease to hear it if she did not obey it? Only one short half-hour had passed since she read that letter, and already she seemed to have gone through the suffering of a long life. Could she bear it? Or was it some awful dream, some hideous fantasy of the night from which she would mercifully awake? If that was it— Oh, God, for daylight! She felt as if she might shriek aloud. Never had she been conscious of the restraint of convent walls till now. Was she losing her mind? Was she going to succumb to the assault of one great affliction?