Page:Elizabeth Jordan--Tales of the cloister.djvu/80

 my entering the convent, and none of them wrote to me. Four years ago a friend told me Clara had gone on the stage—also against the wishes of the family, of course. She has married a theatrical man, this Mr. Bannerton, and plays the leading part in his comedy, or whatever it is. My friend said Clara asked very particularly that I should not be told of the career she had chosen, as of course she felt that I would disapprove of it. And somehow I got the impression that something was wrong, and I have been miserable ever since."

You can imagine how I felt. I thought of Grace and how awful it would be if she and I were separated. Then the wildest kind of an idea flashed into my mind, and I spoke right out before I had time to think.

"Sister," I said, "if she doesn't come to see you, why don't you go to her?"

I shall never forget the look she gave me. There was indignation in it, and reproach, and something else that hurt me most of all—regret for the confidence she had given me. She turned without a word and opened the door to leave the room, but I caught her hand and held her. I had to get out of this some way, and what Jack calls one of my "lucid moments" came to me. I drew her back into