"Sometimes they go into the park, but they come every morning to be fed. On the whole, Francis is my best bird; but there is another who in a way excels him—Timothy. I don't know why we call him Timothy; it isn't a pretty name, but it seems suited to him because I taught him 'The Shepherd's Pipe'; and you know how difficult it is, dropping half a note each time? Yet he knows it nearly all; sometimes he will whistle it through without a mistake. We could have got a great deal of money for him if he had been sold, and Reverend Mother wanted me to sell him, but I wouldn't."
And Evelyn led Louise away to a far corner.
"He is generally in this corner; these are his trees." And Evelyn began to whistle.
"Does he answer you when you whistle?"
"No; scraping one's feet against the gravel, some little material noise, will set him whistling." And Evelyn scraped her feet. "I'm afraid he isn't here to-day. But there is the bell for Benediction. We must not keep the nuns waiting." And the singers hurried towards the convent, where they met the Prioress and the Mistress of the Novices and Sister Mary John.
"Dear me, how late you are, Sister!" said Sister Mary John. "I suppose you were listening to the bullfinches. Aren't they wonderful? But won't you introduce me to Mademoiselle Helbrun? It would be delightful, mademoiselle, if you would only sing for us."
"I shall be very pleased indeed."
"Well, we have only got two or three minutes to decide what it is to be. Will you come up to the organ loft?"
And that afternoon the Wimbledon laity had the pleasure of hearing two prima donne at Benediction.