"Happy? In this gloomy old convent? You and Sister Angela alone?"
I told her we had two lay sisters-and then there was Father Giovanni.
"Father Giovanni? That serious old cross-bones?"
I said he was not always serious, and that on Christmas Day he had come to tea and kissed me under the mistletoe.
"Kissed you under the mistletoe!" said Alma, and then she whispered eagerly,
"He didn't kiss Sister Angela, did he?"
I suppose I was flattered by her interest, and this loosened my tongue, for I answered:
"He kissed her hand, though."
"Kissed her hand? My! . . . Of course she was very angry . . . wasn't she angry?"
I answered no, and in my simplicity I proceeded to prove this by explaining that Sister Angela had taken Father Giovanni down to the door, and when he was ill she had nursed him.