I was allowing my mind to revel in the delight
which I had had in looking at her while she spoke. When her pen began to
scratch impatiently upon the paper, I plunged into some sort of a homily
on the laxity of vigilance in leaning towers. But, even while dictating
this, I was wondering what she would look like if, instead of that gray
shawl and gown, she were arrayed in one of the charming costumes which
often make even ordinary young ladies so attractive.
As our daily work went on, my nun relaxed more frequently her proscribed
rigidity, and became more and more like an ordinary person. When she
looked at me or spoke, she always did so in such an unpremeditated
manner, and with such an obvious good reason, that I could not determine
whether her change of manner was due to accumulative forgetfulness, or
to a conviction that it was absurd to continue to act a part which was
not only unnatural under the circumstances, but which positively
interfered with the work in hand. Some of her suggestions were of the
greatest service, but I fear that the value of what she said was not as
fully appreciated as was the pleasure of seeing and hearing her say it.
Thus joyously passed the hours of work, and in the hours when I was not
working I looked forward with glad anticipation to the next forenoon;
but after a time I began to be somewhat oppressed by the fear that my
work would come to an end before long for want of material.
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