The Ordeal of Sister Cuthbert
known—this woman who had not one tear for her mother's death? Or was it another illustration of the drying-up of all human impulse which he believed convent life entailed? He unconsciously took on his most professional manner as he continued.
"There was no pain or suffering at the last. But one rather extraordinary thing happened. Your mother, as I wrote you, had been calling for you constantly. Just at the end she became conscious, and she thought she saw you. She spoke to you and died happy in the belief that you were with her."
"I was," said Sister Cuthbert, quietly; "I was there." She lifted her eyes as she spoke and fixed them on the doctor's face. He regarded her with professional calm.
"Sister Cuthbert means," interrupted Sister Philomene, gently, "that she was there in spirit and sympathy. Her duties kept her here. It was unfortunate, but we could not permit her to go."
"I was there," repeated Sister Cuthbert, with quiet conviction. She seemed not to have heard the other woman's words. She spoke slowly, as one who describes a picture and wishes to overlook no detail.
"She died between four and five o'clock," she continued, "in her own room. The bed had
223
