In Our Convent Days

MP3 Audio CD. In Our Convent Days

Marianus


I do not know how Marianus ever came to leave his native land, nor
what turn of fate brought him to flutter the dovecotes of a convent
school. At eleven, one does not often ask why things happen, because
nothing seems strange enough to provoke the question. It was enough for
me--it was enough for all of us--that one Sunday morning he appeared
in little Peter's place, lit the candles on the altar, and served
Mass with decent and devout propriety. Our customary torpor of cold
and sleepiness--Mass was at seven, and the chapel unheated--yielded
to a warm glow of excitement. I craned my white-veiled head (we wore
black veils throughout the week and white on Sundays) to see how
Elizabeth was taking this delightful novelty. _She_ was busy passing
her prayer-book, with something evidently written on the fly-leaf, to
Emily Goring on the bench ahead. Emily, oblivious of consequences,
was making telegraphic signals to Marie. Lilly and Viola Milton knelt
staring open-mouthed at the altar. Tony was giggling softly. Only Annie
Churchill, her eyes fixed on her Ursuline Manual, was thumping her
breast remorsefully, in unison with the priest's "mea maxima culpa."
There was something about Annie's attitude of devotion which always
gave one a distaste for piety.