"
Peter did not meet her friend again after they had gone into the house
until Mary had laid away the habit of Sister Rose the novice and put on
the simple gray travelling frock in which Mary Grant was to go "out into
the world." Peter had been extremely curious to see her in this, for it
was three years ago and more since she had last had a sight of Mary in
"worldly dress." That was on the day when Molly Maxwell had left the
convent as a schoolgirl, to go back to America with her father; and
almost immediately Mary Grant had given up such garments, as she thought
forever, in becoming a postulant.
Not since then had Peter seen Mary's hair, which by this time would have
been cut close to her head if she had not suddenly discovered, just in
time, that she had "lost her vocation." Mary had beautiful hair. All the
girls in school had admired it. Peter had hated to think of its being
cut off; and lately, since the sudden change in Mary's mind, the
American girl had wondered if the peculiar, silvery blond had darkened.
It would be a pity if it had, for her hair had been one of Mary's chief
beauties, and if it had changed she would not be as lovely as of old,
particularly as she had lost the brilliant bloom of colour she had had
as a schoolgirl, her cheeks becoming white instead of pink roses.
It seemed to Peter that she could not remember exactly what Mary had
been like, in those first days, for the novice's habit had changed her
so strangely, seeming to chill her warm humanity, turning a lovely,
glowing young girl into a beautiful marble saint.
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