Evelyn did not answer, and the singer and the prelate walked on in silence, seeing Sister Mary John among her blackbirds and thrushes, sparrows and starlings, accepting her crumbs without fear, no stranger being by. The starlings, however, again flew into a tree when they saw Evelyn and Monsignor, and some of the other birds followed them.
"The robin follows her like a dog; and what a saucy little bird he is! Look at him, Monsignor! isn't he pretty, with his red breast and black, beady eyes?"
"Last winter, Monsignor, he spent on the kitchen clock. He knows our kitchen well enough, and will go back there if a thaw does not begin very quickly. But look," continued Sister Mary John, "I have two bullfinches following me. Aren't they provoking birds? They don't build in our garden, where their nests would be safe, stupid birds! but away in the common. I'd like to have a young bird and teach him to whistle."
Evelyn and Monsignor stayed a moment watching the birds, thinking of other things, and then turned into St. Peter's Walk to continue their talk.
"The afternoon is turning cold, and we can't stop out talking in this garden any longer; but before we go in I beg of you—"
"To agree that you should return to the stage?"
"For a few months, Monsignor. I don't want to go to America feeling that you think I have acted wrongly by going. The nuns will pray for me, and I believe in their prayers; and I believe in yours, Monsignor, and in your advice. Do say something kind."
"You are determined upon this American tour?"
"I cannot do otherwise. There is nothing else in my head."
"And you must do something? Well, Miss Innes, let us consider it from a practical point of view. The nuns want money, it is true; but they want it at once. Five thousand pounds at the end of next year will be very little use to them."