But several days passed, and I met no one clad in gray bonnet and gown.
I was disappointed; there were a good many questions about Sylvia which
I wished to ask, and a good many things in regard to her that I wished
to say. I might go to the House of Martha and boldly ask to see the
Mother Superior; but a step like that might produce an undesirable
impression, and naturally the position in which I had placed myself
regarding Sylvia would prevent my going to visit her.
As I could do nothing for myself in this matter, I must ask some one to
help me, and there was no one so willing and able to do this as my
grandmother. She could go to the House of Martha and ask what questions
she pleased. I went to the dear old lady and made known my desires. She
laid down her knitting and gave me her whole attention.
"Now tell me exactly what it is you want," she said. "You cannot expect
to be asked to take tea with the sisters, you know, though I see no
reason why you should not. Say what they will, they are not nuns."
"What I want," I replied, "is to know how Sylvia is, what she is doing,
all about her. I do not even know that she is still there."
"My dear boy," said my grandmother, very tenderly, "I suppose that even
if you are obliged to give up all hope of ever having Sylvia for your
own, you will want to know every day for the rest of your life just how
she is getting on.
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