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recognized his voice； and he had not known it。 She was out again to…day
with the procession。 A sudden idea struck him。 He glanced quickly at
the letter in his hand； and hurriedly opened it。 It contained only three
lines； in a large formal hand； but they sent the swift blood to his cheeks。
〃I heard your voice to…day for the third time。 I want to hear it again。
I will come at dusk。 Do not go out until then。〃
He sat stupefied。 Was it madness； audacity； or a trick？ He
summoned the waiter。 The letter had been left by a boy from the
confectioner's shop in the next block。 He remembered it of old；a resort
for the young ladies of the convent。 Nothing was easier than conveying a
letter in that way。 He remembered with a shock of disillusion and disgust
that it was a common device of silly but innocent assignation。 Was he to
be the ridiculous accomplice of a schoolgirl's extravagant escapade； or the
deluded victim of some infamous plot of her infamous companion？ He
could not believe either； yet he could not check a certain revulsion of
feeling towards her； which only a moment ago he would have believed
impossible。
Yet whatever was her purpose； he must prevent her coming there at
any hazard。 Her visit would be the culmination of her folly； or the
success of any plot。 Even while he was fully conscious of the material
effect of any scandal and exposure to her； even while he was incensed and
disillusionized at her unexpected audacity； he was unusually stirred with
the conviction that she was wronging herself； and that more than ever she
demanded his help and his consideration。 Still she must not come。 But
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how was he to prevent her？ It wanted but an hour of dusk。 Even if he
could again penetrate the convent on some pretext at that inaccessible hour
for visitors；twilight；how could he communicate with her？ He might
intercept her on the way； and persuade her to return； but she must be kept
from entering the hotel。
He seized his hat and rushed downstairs。 But here another difficulty
beset him。 It was easy enough to take the ordinary road to the convent；
but would SHE follow that public one in what must be a surreptitious
escape？ And might she not have eluded the procession that morning； and
even now be concealed somewhere； waiting for the darkness to make her
visit。 He concluded to patrol the block next to the hotel； yet near enough
to intercept her before she reached it； until the hour came。 The time
passed slowly。 He loitered before shop windows； or entered and made
purchases； with his eye on the street。 The figure of a pretty girl；and
there were many；the fluttering ribbons on a distant hat； or the flashing of
a cambric skirt around the corner sent a nervous thrill through him。 The
reflection of his grave； abstracted face against a shop window； or the
announcement of the workings of his own mine on a bulletin board； in its
incongruity with his present occupation； gave him an hysterical impulse to
laugh。 The shadows were already gathering； when he saw a slender；
graceful figure disappear in the confectioner's shop on the block below。
In his elaborate precautions； he had overlooked that common trysting spot。
He hurried thither； and entered。 The object of his search was not there；
and he was compelled to make a shamefaced； awkward survey of the
tables in an inner refreshment saloon to satisfy himself。 Any one of the
pretty girls seated there might have been the one who had just entered； but
none was the one he sought。 He hurried into the street again；he had
wasted a precious moment；and resumed his watch。 The sun had sunk；
the Angelus had rung out of a chapel belfry； and shadows were darkening
the vista of the Alameda。 She had not come。 Perhaps she had thought
better of it； perhaps she had been prevented； perhaps the whole
appointment had been only a trick of some day…scholars； who were
laughing at him behind some window。 In proportion as he became
convinced that she was not coming； he was conscious of a keen despair
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growing in his heart； and a sickening remorse that he had ever thought of
preventing her。 And when he at last reluctantly reentered the hotel； he
was as miserable over the conviction that she was not coming as he had
been at her expected arrival。 The porter met him hurriedly in the hall。
〃Sister Seraphina of the Sacred Heart has been here； in a hurry to see
you on a matter of importance；〃 he said； eyeing Key somewhat curiously。
〃She would not wait in the public parlor； as she said her business was
confidential； so I have put her in a private sitting…room on your floor。〃
Key felt the blood leave his cheeks。 The secret was out for all his
precaution。 The Lady Superior had discovered the girl's flight；or her
attempt。 One of the governing sisterhood was here to arraign him for it；
or at least prevent an open scandal。 Yet he was resolved； and seizing this
last straw； he hurriedly mounted the stairs； determined to do battle at any
risk for the girl's safety； and to perjure himself to any extent。
She was standing in the room by the window。 The light fell upon the
coarse serge dress with its white facings； on the single girdle that scarcely
defined the formless waist； on the huge crucifix that dangled ungracefully
almost to her knees； on the hideous； white… winged coif that； with the
coarse but dense white veil； was itself a renunciation of all human vanity。
It was a figure he remembered well as a boy； and even in his excitement
and half resentment touched him now； as when a boy； with a sense of its
pathetic isolation。 His head bowed with boyish deference as she
approached gently； passed him a slight salutation； and closed the door that
he had forgotten to shut behind him。
Then； with a rapid