Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the cloister.djvu/264

 times even to them, but there was no denying that since her arrival life had taken on fuller, richer tones. They suffered frequently, but soon learned to do it with no more complaint than was strictly necessary.

A puzzling feature of the Imp's case was her entire lack of human affection. Not one pupil, not one Sister, had ever touched the stormy heart of Mercedes Centi. Other little girls went about with their arms around each other's waists and wrote notes to each other, and then quarrelled and sat for hours in a stricken grief that all might see. Every little girl had some favorite nun on whose desk she laid her offering whenever a box came from home, and whom she followed about as constantly and as devotedly as circumstances and the Sister would permit. But the Imp stood ostentatiously aloof and showed open scorn for these fine feelings she could not share. Nun after nun tried her blandishments in vain. Small girl after small girl made friendly advances, only to be spurned. In cold self-exile from the isle of friendship, the Imp followed what May Iverson called "her career of danger and daring." On one occasion only did she show a temporary interest in human companionship. She had met Sister Ernesta in the garden—Saint