The nun cast down her eyes.
‘I do not know, Father, about dresses. Sister Aloysia, the Reverend Father wants to buy tweed to make a dress for ‘—she hesitated; perhaps it was his niece, but he looked young to have a full-grown niece—‘for his sister.’
Sister Aloysia looked round her, puzzled. She saw no Reverend Father.
‘This,’ said the other, ‘is Father—Father——’
‘Austin,’ he helped her out.
‘Father Austin,’ added the nun.
‘And you wish,’ said Sister Aloysia, ‘to buy a dress for your sister?’
‘Not for my sister,’ said Mr. Austin—‘for my wife.’
Both nuns started back as if he had tried to strike them.
‘Your wife! Your wife! Then you are a Protestant.’