"But if the Church teaches, and of course it must or Mother de Chantal and St. Agnes would not have done it," I began, but Amabel interrupted me.
"I don't like to look two ways at once, it only puzzles me. There, our work is finished—the last we shall do in this house. Does it not seem strange? Come, let us carry it to Mother Sacristine, and then I want to speak to Mrs. Thorpe."
Mother Sacristine praised our work to the skies, and lamented, as much as Sister Agnes had done, over our going away.
"If you were only of age—but when you are, you can come back, you know. I don't believe but it might be managed now. There are plenty of hiding places where no one would ever find you."
We glanced at each other, but said nothing, and betook ourselves to look for Mrs. Thorpe.
"They are all in it!" said Amabel.
"I see they are," returned I. "It frightens me. What if they should keep us here?"
"There is no use in being frightened," said Amabel, composed as usual. "Wait and see. I have a strong feeling that Mother Superior will not approve; and if she does not, I would not be in their shoes."
We found Mrs. Thorpe in her little cell, busily writing something in her pocketbook.
"Mrs. Thorpe, is my father a Catholic?" asked Amabel, going to the point, as usual.