"In that case, Monsignor, doesn't it seem to you that I am entitled to know why she is being so suddenly taken away from me, and what is the change in life which Mr. O'Neill referred to in his letter?"
The smile which had been playing upon the Bishop's face was smitten away from it by that question, and he looked anxiously across at my father.
"Tell her," said my father, and then, while my heart thumped in my bosom and the Reverend Mother stroked my hand to compose me, the Bishop gave a brief explanation.
The time had not come when it would be prudent to be more definite, but he might say that Mr. O'Neill was trying to arrange a happy and enviable future for his daughter, and therefore he wished her to return home to prepare for it.
"Does that mean marriage?" said the Reverend Mother.
"It may be so. I am not quite prepared to . . ."
"And that a husband has already been found for her?"
"That too perhaps. I will not say . . ."
"Monsignor," said the Reverend Mother, sitting up with dignity "is that fair?"
"Fair?"