‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. He kissed her lightly on the lips. ” “Have I done something wrong? Should I take you home?” “No. ” He scarcely saw her face again. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. " The desperate eagerness to go with him—and she dared not voice it! She watched him until McClintock joined him and the two made off toward the south. “Will you help me?” he asked. “Then I don’t take this as final.
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