Having finished her prayers, Massawippa began to ascend the stairway to the rood-loft.
“Where are you going?” whispered Jouaneaux, following her in wrath.
She turned around and held to the rail of the stair, while he stood at the foot, she guarding her voice also in reply.
“I am going up here to sleep, lest I wake the Sisters. The floor is no harder than their pallets, and the night is not cold.”
“And in the morning my honored Superior calls me to account for you.”
“No one has missed me. I shall be up early.”
“How do you know you are not missed? Some one may this moment open that chapel door.”
“Go away and quit hissing at me then,” suggested Massawippa, contracting her brows.
Jouaneaux, drawn by a power irresistible, fell into the error of vain natures, and set himself to lecture the creator of his infatuation.