"We should go I suppose!" answered Amabel.
"And then should we have to become Protestants?"
"I don't know. They would not make us Protestants if we did not choose whatever they might do."
"Perhaps your father is a Catholic!" I suggested.
"I have sometimes thought he must be, or he would not have left us here to be educated!" replied Amabel. "But we need not borrow trouble, Lucy. Perhaps he may never send for us. I should like that best—to live here always and become a religious, would not you?"
"I should like to do so if you did!" I answered truly enough, for imagination was not strong enough to picture for myself a life apart from Amabel. "But sometimes I think I should like to see what the world is like, especially England. Perhaps the Protestants are not all so bad after all!" And here I stopped and looked about me rather alarmed, lest my audacious remark should have been overheard.
"I am sure our mother was not bad!" said Amabel. "She used to teach us to say our prayers at her knees."
"How I wish I could remember her as you do!" said I, enviously. "I wonder why I cannot!"
"I heard Mother Prudentia say once that you were very ill when you came here and for some time after—perhaps that is the reason!" answered Amabel, and then recurring to our sick play fellow. "How strange and sad it will seem not to have Dénise."
"I can't bear to think of it!" said I, beginning to cry. "She has played with us ever since I remember. It was she who told Mother Superior about our going into the cavern, and only for her we might have died there, for I am sure Desireè would never have told!"