I
was becoming interested in the love-story I had begun, and I wanted to
go on with it, and I believed also that it would be of great advantage
to my book; but, on the other hand, it was plain that my nun would not
write this story, and it was quite as plain to me that I could not
insist upon anything which would cause her to leave me.
"Don't you think," she said presently, still looking towards the window,
"that we had better do some sort of work for the rest of the morning? It
is not right for me to sit here idle. Suppose you try to supply some of
the words which were left out of the manuscript, in the first days of my
writing for you."
"Very well," said I; and, taking up her memoranda, she began to look for
the vacant spaces which she had left in the manuscript pages. I supplied
very few words, for to save my life I could not at this moment bring my
mind to bear upon such trifles; but it was pretense of work, and better
than embarrassing idleness. Before my secretary left me I must think of
something to say to her in regard to the work for to-morrow; but what
should I say? Should I tell her I would drop the story, or that I would
modify it so as to make it feasible for her to write? Something must
quickly be decided upon, and while I was tumultuously revolving the
matter in my mind twelve o'clock and the sub-mother came.
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