“I kept my promise, you see,” he beamed, handing the prints to Sister Teresa, and speaking in his native tongue. “The pictures are really very good, and I hope you will enjoy having them. Thank you so much—and good-by. I start on my journey again to-day; so I must be off. Good-by, again. Adios—buanos dais!”
The nuns curtsied and bowed. He paused a moment in order to jot in his note-book: “Ignorant peoples invariably gratefully receive and appreciate—all evidences superior civilization”—bowed again and departed.
It was not till any further glimpse of him was denied by the corner wall that they turned to the photographs. They looked in astonishment, which increased to puzzled wonder; then a look of fear crossed Sister Teresa’s face. Sister Eulalia, with tears in her eyeless lids, had disconsolately sought her seat on the weaving-bench. These marvels were not for her. For a moment she hated her companions—they were no longer companions. She was alone in her misery.
From the depths of self-pity she was rushed to sudden astounded attention by sounds of wrath, of venomous speech, of resentment and anger. Sister Eulalia could not believe her ears, and the angry conversation gave her no hint of its cause. It seemed the babblings of sheer madness.
Sister Teresa had been the first to exclaim.
“See!” she cried, “I cannot understand! This is thy portrait to the life, Sister Catalina, and thine, Sister Rose, also this likeness of Sister Eulalia. But where am I? Who is this strange nun?”
Sister Catalina gazed at the picture in deep perturbation. “But I see thee well,” she affirmed. “It is thy very self upon the paper, but it is I who am not there, and this is the strange nun!” She pointed to her own portrait.
Sister Rose intervened. “Foolish! It is thy very self, and Sister Eulalia, and Sister Teresa, yes; but I am not there, and in my place is a stranger!” She pointed to her own semblance. “Who is this?”
Both Sister Teresa and Sister Catalina looked at her scornfully. “It is thyself,” they said in one breath.
Sister Rose colored till she symbolized her name, but it was the red of anger that mantled her cheeks.