"
"Possibly," admitted Dora, without any encouragement.
"I am so sorry for poor Arthur!" whispered Sister Cecilia, apparently to
the evening shades.
Dora was silent. She knew how to treat Sister Cecilia. Jem had taught her
that.
"It has been such a terrible blow. His letters to his mother are quite
heartbroken."
Dora reserved her opinion of grown-up men who write heartbroken letters
to their mothers.
"I know all about it," Sister Cecilia went on, quite regardless of the
truth, as some good people are. "Dora, dear, I know all about it."
Silence, a silence which reminded Sister Cecilia of a sense of
discomfiture which had more than once been hers in conversation with Jem.
"Have you nothing to tell me, dear?" she inquired. "Nothing to say to
me?"
"Nothing," replied Dora pleasantly. "Especially as you know all about
it."
"Will you never change your mind?" persuasively.
"No, I am not the sort of person to change my mind."
There was a little pause, and again Sister Cecilia whispered to the
evening shades.
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