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BUT sooner or later Sister St. Joseph returned to the subject of the Mother Superior. Kitty had been conscious from the beginning that the personality of this woman dominated the convent. She was regarded by all that dwelt there with love certainly and with admiration, but also with awe and not a little dread. Notwithstanding her kindliness Kitty herself felt like a schoolgirl in her presence. She was never quite at her ease with her, for she was filled with a sentiment which was so strange that it embarrassed her: reverence. Sister St. Joseph with an ingenuous desire to impress, told Kitty how great the family was to which the Mother Superior belonged; she had among her ancestors persons of historic importance and she was un peu cousine with half the kings in Europe: Alphonso of Spain had hunted at her father’s, and they had châteaux all over France. It must have been hard to leave so much grandeur. Kitty listened smilingly, but not a little impressed.
“Du reste, you have only to look at her,” said the Sister, “to see that, comme famille, c’est le dessus du panier.”
“She has the most beautiful hands that I have ever seen,” said Kitty.
“Ah, but if you only knew how she had used them. She is not afraid of work, notre bonne mère.”
When they had come to this city there had been nothing. They had built the convent. The Mother
