LITMIR.BIZ

      XVII

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      WHEN Zella returned to spend her last year at the convent, she found, as she had half hoped, that existence there had ceased to be monotonous. Spiritual experiences added interest and variety to life, and the progress of relations between her soul and its Creator admitted of endless meditations and of frequent consultations with Reverend Mother.

      The effect of Zella's conversion upon the other girls was perhaps less startling than she had hoped, and certainly wore off long before she had ceased to feel all the self-consciousness of novelty every time that she took her place in the kneeling row of girls outside the confessional on Saturday afternoons. The nuns, with one or two exceptions that included the imperturbable Mother Veronica, continued to meet her gaze with an expression of softened and unusual interest, and Zella was complacently aware of being looked upon as a special testimonial to the mercy of Providence, but her secret desire for popularity among her schoolmates came no nearer fulfilment.

      Kathleen Mallet had left the school at midsummer, and Zella was glad that she need no longer be reminded of an episode the humiliation of which she still remembered with exaggerated shame and misery.

      But even the pretence at friendship which had enlivened her intercourse with Kathleen never found its way into her relationship with any of the other girls.

      Zella began to wonder despairingly what was lacking in her that she could neither attract nor be attracted by any one of her compeers. She grew to look upon it as a strange stigma, something that set her apart from the other girls, and speedily exaggerated her point of view into a species of monstrous secret sorrow.

      She felt lowered in her own estimation. Indeed, the whole heart of her trouble lay in the fact that the good-natured indifference which was all that her companions conceded to her, violently disturbed Zella's own conception of herself as the slender central figure on whom all eyes should inevitably be fixed on every possible occasion.

      She had not been a Catholic for more than three months, when a sudden inspiration provided her with the solution to this distressing problem.

      Human love had been denied her. Might not this have been ordained with a distinct view to the exclusive nature of Divine love?

      Zella felt a throb of intense gratification, which she mistook for blinding illumination, as this view of the case presented itself to her. Called by God to belong to Himself alone! What could be clearer, more inevitable, one might say more suitable?

      No wonder that human intercourse had failed to satisfy her!

      Zella burned to impart her new discovery to Reverend Mother. She wrote a little note asking for an interview, and for the next two days trod upon air, as she mentally rehearsed the few simple sentences in which she would make clear to Reverend Mother the number and magnitude of the sacrifices entailed upon her by the high destiny to which she was called.

      Reverend Mother, however, did not altogether rise to the occasion. After receiving Zella's modest assurance that God had now made clear to her the exceptional vocation designed for her, Reverend Mother replied with an unenthusiastic smile:

      "Ah, my dear child, many souls have thought that, in the first ardour of conversion. But a true vocation to the religious life is a rare thing, and not to be settled in a moment."

      Zella tried not to look disconcerted.

      "I know that," she said in a tone of blended firmness and humility. "And, of course, it would mean suffering and sacrifice; but I feel that it is worth it all."

      "Indeed, yes; but your own strength would not be sufficient, my little Zella, and it needs a very clear call from God to enable a soul to follow Him in that especial way. The life of a religious is a hard one, and the grace to live it is not given to everyone."

      Few arguments in favour of the religious life could have appealed more strongly to Zella's temperamental vanity. She returned more firmly than ever:

      "Reverend Mother, I do really feel that God means me to be a nun. Of course I know that I may be mistaken (though I don't think so), and in any case I should have to wait some time before entering, I suppose. But I felt I ought to tell you at once, and—and try to prepare myself, you know," she added rather feebly.

      Yes, yes, you must try to be very faithful in little things. That is your business just now, is it not? You must not think me discouraging, child, but, you know, any idea of the religious life is apt to be looked upon merely as a phase through which many converts pass—a very generous impulse, but no more!"

      Zella's expressive face betokened considerable mortification.

      "We will talk of this again later on. Meanwhile you must pray very much for light, and that Our Lord should show you what it is He wants of you. I feel sure that, whatever it is, you will try to do it, like a good generous child," said Reverend Mother placidly, and not at all in the tones of one addressing a fervent young virgin martyr, preparing herself to renounce the world and all its pomps for the austerities of the cloister.

      "Had I better not say anything to my father at present, then?"

      "But no! Why should you distress him anew, when he has shown so much kindness and indulgence over your reception into the Church? He would reply, and very rightly, that you

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