"There goes Eric; I will call him. Eric! Eric!" cried Roland in a loud voice.
The figure did not turn, however, but kept on, and presently disappeared among the shrubbery.
Roland and Manna found the Professorin waiting for them upon the steps, and Manna received a hearty welcome.
"He gave me no peace till I consented to come to you," said Manna.
"So he makes you mind like the rest of us, does he?" said the lady with mock severity. "Let me tell you, my dear child, that I know this wild boy has said a great deal to you about me, and would like to force you to love me; but even the best intentioned urgency in such matters should be avoided. Glad as I shall be if we can be good friends, we yet will not be forced upon each other."
Manna looked in amazement on the Mother, who asked a great many questions about the convent, and advised her to remain much alone, as the sudden change from a life of seclusion to one of excitement might injure her habits of thought, as well as her health.
Manna felt herself cheered by intercourse with this quiet, composed, harmonious nature; only the room looked strange to her with no images of saints about. Her attention was attracted by the sewing-machine, and the Mother had readily consented to instruct her in the use of it when Aunt Claudine entered, whose dignified bearing interested Manna even more than the Mother had done.
"You and Aunt Claudine," exclaimed Roland, "have two things in common. She is a star gazer like you, and plays the harp as you do."
Aunt Claudine did not require much urging, but willingly played Manna a piece on the harp.
"I shall be very grateful if you will accept me as a pupil," said Manna offering her hand; and the beautiful nervous hand which grasped hers gave her more pleasure by its touch, than she had found in the soft little plump one of the Professorin.