“Thou dost not like it, my dove?”
“I do not like being with strangers,” she said frankly. “And I am afraid the nuns will think me a variety of heathen, for I cannot do all they will want me.”
“They will not, if I tell the Abbess that thou art a new convert,” said Bruno. “They may very likely attempt to instruct thee.”
“Father, why should there be any nuns?”
Beatrice did not know how she astonished Bruno. But he only smiled.
“Thine eyes are unaccustomed to the light,” was all he answered.
“But, Father, among our people of old,—I mean,” said Beatrice hesitatingly, “my mother’s people—”
“Go on, my Beatrice. Let it be ‘our people.’ Speak as it is nature to thee to do.”
“Thank you, my father. Among our people, there were no nuns. So far from it, that for a woman to remain unwed was considered a reproach.”
“Why?—dost thou know?”