She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. One of these was a classification of women into women who are and women who are not hostile to men. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. She was fine and tender. Hill again—alive. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful.
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