"But we said, Mother, we wouldn't talk of that any more. Now, what are the novices so eager about?"
Sister Agatha ran forward to tell them that it had been suddenly remembered that the thirtieth of the month would be Sister Bridget's fortieth anniversary of her vows.
"Forty years she has been in the convent, and we are thinking that we might do something to commemorate the anniversary."
"I should like to see her on an elephant, riding round the garden.
What a spree it would be!" said Sister Jerome.
The words were hardly out of her mouth when she regretted them, foreseeing allusions to elephants till the end of her days, for Sister Jerome often said foolish things, and was greatly quizzed for them. But the absurdity of the proposal did not seem to strike any one; only the difficulty of procuring an elephant, with a man who would know how to manage the animal, was very great. Why not a donkey? They could easily get one from Wimbledon; the gardener would bring one. But a donkey ride seemed a strange come-down after an elephant ride, and an idea had suddenly struck Sister Agatha.
"Sister Jerome doesn't mean a real elephant, I suppose. We might easily make a very fine elephant indeed by piling the long table from the library with cushions, stuffing it as nearly as possible into the shape of an elephant."
"And the making of the elephant would be such a lark!" cried Sister
Jerome.
Mother Hilda raised no objection, and the Prioress and Evelyn walked aside, saying:
"Well, it is better they should be making elephants than dreaming of counterparts."