"Your health doesn't permit much religious instruction; but one of these days you will realise better than you do now what our life is, and what its objects are."
So did the Prioress talk, getting nearer the point towards which she was making, without, however, pressing Evelyn to answer any direct question, leading her towards an involuntary decision.
"But, dear Mother, I am safe here, you know."
"And yet you fear, my dear child, you have no vocation?"
"Well, it seems extraordinary that I—"
"More extraordinary things have happened in the world than that; besides, there is much time for you to decide. No one proposes that you should be admitted to the Order to-morrow; such a thing, you know, is impossible, but the white veil is a great help. Evelyn, dear, this question has been running in my mind some time back—is it well for you to remain a postulant any longer? The white veil, again I say, is such a help."
"A help for what, dear Mother?"
"Well, it will tell you if you have a vocation; at the end of the year you will know much better than you know now."
"I a nun!" Evelyn repeated.
"In a year you will be better able to decide. Extraordinary things have happened."