AC dBooks

After that, and Mass in the Church, we went scurrying away to the
Refectory, which was now warm with the steam from our breakfast and
bubbling with cheerful voices, making a noise that was like water
boiling in a saucepan.
I was so absorbed by all I saw that I forgot to eat until Mildred nudged
me to do so, and even when my spoon was half way to my mouth something
happened which brought it down again.
At the tinkle of a hand-bell one of the big girls had stepped up to the
reading-desk and begun to read from a book which I afterwards knew to be
"The Imitation of Christ." She was about sixteen years of age, and her
face was so vivid that I could not take my eyes off it.
Her complexion was fair and her hair was auburn, but her eyes were so
dark and searching that when she raised her head, as she often did, they
seemed to look through and through you.
"Who is she?" I whispered.
"Alma Lier," Mildred whispered back, and when breakfast was over, and we
were trooping off to lessons, she told me something about her.


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