“It was, I should say, of silver, or rather plated,” answered Clara.
“Originally it might have been; but see here, it is turned to gold,” answered the Lady Superior, producing the spoon, which had now evidently a yellow tinge.
“I observed that before,” said Clara, “and believed that it was produced by the nature of the medicine.”
“Oh, hard of heart, and slow to believe!” exclaimed the Lady Superior; “can you not now perceive that it is gold, pure gold? By what other than by miraculous power could this change have been wrought? Let the glorious fact be known among the Sisters, and all who desire may come and witness it.”
Clara was not convinced; she went away wondering whether the Lady Superior was deceived herself, or desired to deceive others. Many of the nuns were highly delighted at hearing of the miracle, which tended so much to prove that their establishment was under the especial protection of Heaven. The Mother Eldress crossed her hands on her bosom, while she meekly bowed her head, and expressed her gratitude that she should have been so remarkably favoured. It was evident, however, to Clara, that some of the Sisters were sceptical on the subject.
Clara found the life she was doomed to lead more and more irksome; but when she compared it with that of the Sisters who belonged to the order of the Sacred Heart, the true nuns, who were even more strictly enclosed (as the term is) than were she and her associates, she felt that she had no right to complain. The nuns of the Sacred Heart, or as they were frequently called, of the order of the Love of Jesus, were supposed to spend their time in perpetual prayer for the living or the dead. The whole of the twenty-four hours, Clara learned, are divided into what are denominated watches; the night watches being kept by the nuns in the following manner. The Sisters retire at seven o’clock, with the exception of one who remains watching till eight. She then summons another Sister, who rises and watches till nine, the latter again summoning a fresh watcher, and thus they continue till three o’clock, when all assemble in the chapel for matins. They also join in prayer seven times in the day, at fixed periods, though they may be separated. To the order of the Love of Jesus are attached companions who may mix in the world, and whose real duties are to obtain proselytes. They are expected to join in prayer at stated hours, wherever they may be, and on every Thursday night, from midnight till one o’clock, the companions unite in prayer. The Lady Superior in one of her more confidential moods invited Clara to join the order.
“My dear child,” she observed, “it is a glorious thing to be thus constantly engaged in prayer when you may; in every service and homage you render, call to your aid the choirs of angelic spirits, and unite yourself to them in spiritual companionship, in order that they may supply your deficiencies.”
Clara had never before heard that it was necessary to obtain the aid of angels for offering up prayer to God, and was somewhat startled at the novelty of the notion; but she knew perfectly well that it would not do to state her objections to so determined a person as her spiritual mother. She did not, either, feel inclined to become one of the order of the Sacred Heart, not having formed the very highest opinion of the nuns belonging to it whom she had met. They appeared to her generally weak-minded enthusiasts, and she still retained a belief that God is best served by those who, in imitation of our blessed Lord and Master, engage in the duties of active benevolence. On her declining, therefore, the Lady Superior dismissed her in a stern manner, reminding her that those who put their hands to the plough, and look back, are not worthy of the kingdom of heaven.
Clara, without uttering a word, left the room, and hoped to devote herself with more zeal than ever to the duties she had actually undertaken. With this feeling, she repaired at the appointed hour to the schoolroom, where she took her class of children. They were, as it happened, inclined to be less attentive and more unruly than was their wont; some of them had only lately been induced to attend the school, and were unaccustomed to the rules and regulations. A biggish boy was trying to see how far he could proceed in impudence and lead on the others, when Clara, finding that appealing to him was useless, gave him a box on the ear. The Deane, at that moment entering, observed the act.
“Sister Clare,” she exclaimed, “I must take your class; retire to your cell.”