Perhaps they did not have the chance. One
does not understand these things."
Sister Cecilia cast her eyes upwards toward the tree-tops to see if
perchance the explanation was written there.
"Of course," she went on complacently, drawing down her bonnet-strings,
"there are many useful lives of single women. Lives which the world would
sadly miss should it please God to take them. Women who live, not for
themselves, but for others; who go about the world helping their
neighbours with advice and the fruits of their own experience; ever the
first to go to the afflicted and to those who are in trouble. They do not
receive their reward here, they are not always thanked. The ignorant are
sometimes even rude. They have only the knowledge that they are doing
good."
"That _must_ be a satisfaction," murmured Dora fervently.
"It is, dear; it is. But--you will excuse me, Dora dear, if I say
this?--I do not think you are that sort of woman."
"No," answered Dora, "I don't think I am."
"And that is why I have said this to you.
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