'Would a father do all the scolding?' asked Angela in an odd voice.
'If we still had our own, you would be coming to him to help you, and telling him freely what it is that makes things go wrong with you.'
'I'm sure,' answered the girl, 'I'd just as soon tell you, Felix, if I only knew; but there's only one thing that would do me any good, I believe.'
'And that?'
'If I could only be a Trappist.'
'A what?'
'A Trappist, or one of those Sepolte nuns, that never see anybody, and can't talk to their relations. Oh! I wish I was old enough to turn Roman Catholic! and then wouldn't I go and cut off this horrible hair, that is the plague and torment of my life, and never be naughty again!'
'Which do you want to be rid of most—your hair or your relations?' asked Felix, half diverted, half dismayed and wholly at a loss.
But Angela had passed the boundary of earnest now, and went on more from the heart. 'If I could but be in a real strict nunnery, it would be so nice! It would always be church. Oh! if church could but last always!'
He was more puzzled than ever at the intent yearning look that had changed the face. 'You could not keep up. It would lose effect,' he said.