Something like a fortnight had elapsed since her illness, or from that to three weeks, and she was able to walk about her room and do, at her own request, some sewing for the Sisters. Mr. Harry Castlemaine had not intruded on the Nunnery again. It was getting time to think of what was to be done with her: where she was to go, how she was to live. Jane had been so meek, so humble throughout this illness, so thankful for the care and kindness shown her, and for the non-reproach, that the Grey Ladies, in spite of their inward condemnation, could not help liking her in their hearts almost as much as they had liked her before, and they felt an anxious interest in her future. Sister Mildred especially, more reflective than the others by reason of her years, often wondered what that future was to be, what it could be. Miss Hallet--shut up in her home, her cheeks pink with shame whenever she had to go abroad: which she took care should be on Sundays only; but divine service, such as it was in Greylands, she would not miss--had never been to the Nunnery to see Jane, or taken the slightest notice of her. Sister Mildred had paid another visit to the cliff, and held a second conference with Miss Hallet, but it resulted in no good for Jane.
"She has blighted her own life and embittered mine," said Miss Hallet. "Never more can I hold up my head among my neighbours. I will not willingly see her again; I hope I never shall see her."
"The worst of it is, that all this reprobation will not undo the past," returned Sister Mildred. "If it would, if it could have served to prevent it, I'd say punish Jane to the last extreme of harshness. But it won't."
"She deserves to be punished always."
"The evil has come upon her, and everybody knows it. Your receiving her again in your home will not add to it or take from it. She has nowhere else to go."
"I pray you cease, Sister Mildred," said Miss Hallet; and it was plain to be seen that she spoke with utter pain. "You cannot--pardon me--you cannot understand my feelings in this."
"What shall you do without Jane? She was very useful to you; she was a companion."
"Could I ever make a companion of her again? For the rest, I have taken a little servant--Brown the blacksmith's eldest girl--and I find her handy."
"If I could but induce you to be lenient, for Jane's sake!" urged the pleading Sister, desperately at issue between her own respect for Miss Hallet's outraged feelings and her compassion for Jane.
"I never can be," was the answer, spoken stiffly: but Miss Hallet's fingers were trembling as she smoothed back her black silk mitten. "As to receiving her under my roof again, why, if I were ever brought to do that, I should be regarded as no better than herself. I should be no better--as I look upon it. Madam, you think it right to ask me this, I know: but to entertain it is an impossibility."