“Our fold is open to all, especially to those children—without birth certificates.”
“The fees shall be paid regularly,” the Italian went on hastily. “Marco is very rich, and will grudge nothing, you need have no anxiety.”
The conversation had gone on in English of which Carlotta understood no word, but looked questioningly at each in turn, clinging shyly to her mother.
When the time for parting came, she cried bitterly, silently.
Her mother gave her a formal kiss, and told her to behave well in her new school. She would write to her, she said, and perhaps come and see her next year. Meanwhile the Sisters would look after her.
And so she took her departure, impatient to be gone, and would not even stay for food which was offered her.
“Poor lamb,” said the Mother Superior, and brought her to the Sisters. She handed her over to Sister Ursula, who was versed in these cases, who soon had Carlotta smiling, and in a few days her troubles were almost forgotten. Life was fair, and the English June beautiful as a picture. Roses were out in the gardens, the trees were in fresh green, and the flowers along the old wall were such as she had never seen. The Sisters were particularly kind to Carlotta; she was so fragile, with an exotic prettiness, given to sudden crying at times. And there was a wistful look in her eyes, as though gazing out over the sea to her southern home. She had beautiful dark eyes, with long lashes, was grave and composed at her lessons, and attentive in the dim chapel, where she would kneel with a devotion beyond her years, at the wonderful services, her eyes fixed as though in ecstasy.
But she was happiest in the Chapel of Our Lady, where she would adore with clasped hands. The Mother Superior was disturbed, she did not like to see too much fervour in one so young. She knew the reactions which so often come later.
“It is all so beautiful,” Carlotta said to Sister Ursula. “When I grow up I shall be a sister. Do you think they will let me or am I too wicked?”
The Sister smiled and stroked her black hair. “My dear, we must do as Our Blessed Lady directs,” she said, “we can seldom choose for ourselves. To some is given the quiet and holiness of a religious life, but others are called to go out into the world, and to face the evil there—perhaps to marry.”