Sister Teresa Part 39

"But you've said, dear, that those who were drowned in the Flood come down to those living now upon earth to prepare them--" The sentence dropped away on Evelyn's lips; she could not continue it, for it seemed to her disgraceful to draw out this girl into speaking of things which were sacred to her, and which had a meaning for her that was pure. Her love was for G.o.d, and she was trying to explain; and the terms open to her were terms of human love, which she, Evelyn, with a sinful imagination, misconstrued, involuntarily perhaps, but misconstrued nevertheless.

At that moment Sister Angela came into the sacristy, and, seeing Sister Veronica and Teresa looking at each other in silence, a look of surprise came into her face, and she said:

"Now, you who are always complaining that the work of the sacristy is behindhand, Veronica--"

Veronica awoke from her dream.

"I know, Sister, we ought not to waste time talking, but Teresa asked me about my counterpart." Evelyn felt the blood rising to her face, and she turned away so that Angela might not see it.

"And you've told her?"

"Yes. And you, Sister Angela, have got a counterpart; won't you tell Teresa about him?"

And then, unable to repress herself at that moment, Evelyn turned to Angela, saying:

"It began about Sister Mary John--who left the convent to my great grief, so Veronica tells me, because she believed herself to be my counterpart."

At this, Angela's face grew suddenly very grave, and she said:

"Of course, Teresa, she would leave the convent if she believed that; but there was no reason for her believing it?"

"None," Evelyn answered, feeling a little frightened. "None. But what do you mean?"

"Only this, that our counterparts are in heaven; but there are counterparts and counterparts. One--I cannot explain now, dear, for I was sent by the Prioress to ask you, Veronica, to go to her room; she wants to speak to you. And I must go back to the novitiate. I suppose," she added, "Veronica has told you that our counterparts are a little secret among ourselves? Mother Hilda knows nothing of them.

It would not do to speak of these visitations; but I never could see any harm, for it isn't by our own will that the counterpart comes to us; he is sent."

Evelyn asked in what Gospel Christ's descent into h.e.l.l is described, and heard it was in that of Nicodemus; her estimation of Angela went up in consequence. Angela was one of the few with intellectual interests; and it was Evelyn's wish to hear about this Gospel that led her, a few days afterwards, to walk with Angela and Veronica in the orchard. Angela was delighted to be questioned regarding her reading, and she told all she knew about Nicodemus. Veronica walked a little ahead, plucking the tall gra.s.ses and enjoying the beautiful weather. Evelyn, too, enjoyed the beautiful weather while listening to the story of the harrowing of h.e.l.l, as described by Nicodemus.

There were no clouds anywhere, and the sky, a dim blue overhead, turned to grey as it descended. The June verdure of the park was a wonderful spectacle, so many were the varying tints of green; only a few unfledged poplars retained their russet tints. Outside the garden, along the lanes, all the hedges overflowed with the great lush of June; nettles and young ivy, b.u.t.tercups, cow-parsley in profusion, and in the hedge itself the white blossom of the hawthorn.

"The wild briar," Evelyn said to herself, "preparing its roses for some weeks later, and in the low-lying lands, where there is a dip in the fields, wild irises are coming into flower, and under the larches on the banks women and children spend the long day chattering. Here we talk of Nicodemus and spiritual loves."

Angela, an alert young woman, whose walk still retained a dancing movement, whose face, white like white flowers and lit with laughing eyes, set Evelyn wondering what strange turn of mind should have induced her to enter a convent. Locks of soft golden hair escaped from her hood, intended to grow into long tresses, but she had allowed her hair to be cut. An ideal young mother, she seemed to Evelyn to be; and the thought of motherhood was put into Evelyn's mind by the story Angela was telling, for her counterpart had been drowned in Noah's deluge when he was four years old.

"But he is a dear little fellow, and he creeps into my bed, and lies in my arms; his hair is all curls, and he told me the story of his drowning, how it happened five thousand years ago. He was carried away in his cot by the flood, and had floated away, seeing the tops of trees, until a great brown bear, weary of swimming, laid hold of the cot and overturned it."

Veronica, who had heard Nicodemus's description of the harrowing of h.e.l.l many times, returned to them, a bunch of wild flowers in her hand.

"Are not these Bright Eyes beautiful? They remind me of the eyes of my baby; his eyes are as blue as these." And she looked into the little blue flower. "Sister Teresa hasn't yet met a counterpart, but that is only because she doesn't wish for it; one must pray and meditate, otherwise one doesn't get one." And Evelyn learned how Rufina had waited a long time for her counterpart. One day an extraordinary fluttering began in her breast, and she heard the being telling her not to forget to warn the doctor that he had grown a little taller, and had come now to reach the end of toes and fingers.

Evelyn wanted to understand what that meant, but Angela could not tell her, she could only repeat what Rufina had told her; and a look of reproval came into Veronica's face when Angela said that when Rufina was asked what her counterpart was like she said that it was like having something inside one, and that lately he seemed to be much in search of her mouth and tongue; and when she asked him what he was like he replied that he was all a kiss."

"It really seems to me--" A memory of her past life checked her from reproving the novices for their conversation; they were innocent girls, and though their language seemed strange they were innocent at heart, which was the princ.i.p.al thing, whereas she was not. And the talk went on now about Sister Cecilia, who had been long praying for a counterpart, but whose prayers were not granted.

"She is so stupid; how could a counterpart care about her? What could he say?" Angela whispered to Veronica, pressing the bunch of flowers which Veronica had given to her lips.

"Cecilia isn't pretty. But our counterparts don't seek us for our beauty," Veronica answered, Evelyn thought a little pedantically, "otherwise mine never would have found me." And the novices laughed.

The air was full of larks, some of them lost to view, so high were they; others, rising from the gra.s.s, sang as they rose.

"Listen to that one, how beautifully that bird sings!" And the three women stood listening to a heaven full of larks till the Angelus bell called their thoughts away from the birds.

"We have been a long time away. Mother Hilda will be looking for us."

And they returned slowly to the Novice Mistress, Evelyn thinking of Cecilia. "So it was for a counterpart she was praying all that time in the corner of the chapel; and it was a dream of a counterpart that caused her to forget to fill the sacred lamp."

x.x.x

It was the day of the month when the nuns watched by day and night before the Sacrament. Cecilia's watch came at dawn, at half-past two, and the last watcher knocked at her cell in the dusk, telling her she must get up at once. But Cecilia answered:

"I cannot get up, Sister, I cannot watch before the Sacrament this morning."

"And why, Sister? Are you ill?"

"Yes, I am very ill."

"And what has made you ill?"

"A dream, Sister."

And seeing it was Angela who had come to awaken her, Cecilia rose from her pillow, saying, "A horrible dream, not a counterpart like yours, Angela; oh! I can't think of it! It would be impossible for me to take my watch."

And walking down the pa.s.sage, not knowing what to make of Cecilia's answers, Angela stopped at Barbara's cell to tell her Cecilia was ill and could not take her watch that morning.

"And you must watch for her."

"Why... what is it?"

"I can tell you no more, Cecilia's ill."

And she hurried away to avoid further questions, wondering what reason stupid Cecilia would give Mother Hilda for her absence from chapel and the row there would be if she were to tell that a counterpart had visited her! If she could only get a chance to tell Cecilia that she must say she was ill! If she didn't--Angela's thoughts turned to her little counterpart, from whom she might be separated for ever. No chance of speaking happened as the procession moved towards the refectory; and after breakfast the novices bent their heads over their work, when Mother Hilda said:

"I hear, Cecilia, that you were so ill this morning that you couldn't take your watch."

"It wasn't illness--not exactly."

"What, then?"

"A bad dream, Mother."

"It must have been a very bad dream to prevent you from getting up to take your watch. I'm afraid I don't believe in dreams." The novices breathed more freely, and their spirits rose when Mother Hilda said, "The cake was heavy; you must have eaten too much of it. Barbara, you must take notice of this indigestion, for you are fond of cake." The novices laughed again, and thought themselves safe. But after breakfast the Prioress sent for Cecilia, and they saw her leave the novitiate angry with them all--she had caught sight of their smiles and dreaded their mockery, and went to the Prioress wondering what plausible contradiction she could give to Angela's story of the ugly counterpart, so she was taken aback by the first question.

"Now, what is it that I hear about a refusal to get up to take your watch? Such a thing--"

"Not laziness, Mother. Mother, if you knew what my dream was, you would understand it was impossible for me to watch before the Sacrament."

"A dream!"

Cecilia didn't answer.

"You can tell me your dream...I shall be able to judge for myself."