"Yes, when I regained my senses and opened my eyes, his were fixed on me."
"What! he dared to raise your veil? But it is a great sin to let a man see your face, and you must confess it to dear Mother Superior; the convent rule demands it."
"I know it, and will conform."
"After all," Rosita continued, with volubility, "as you had fainted, you could not prevent him raising your veil; hence it is not your fault, but that young man's."
"He saved my life!" Maria murmured.
"That is true, and you are bound to feel grateful to him instead of hating him."
"Do you think I can remember him without sinning?"
"Certainly: is it not natural to remember those who have done us a great service?"
"Yes, yes; you are right," Maria exclaimed, joyfully. "Thanks, sister—thanks, sister: your words do me good, for I was afraid it would be wrong to think of him who saved me."
"On the contrary, sister," Rosita said, with a little doctorial tone which rendered her ravishing, "you know that Mother Abbess daily repeats to us that ingratitude is one of the most odious vices."