THE COLLECTED NOVELS OF E. M. DELAFIELD (6 Titles in One Edition). E. M. Delafield
anew, when he has shown so much kindness and indulgence over your reception into the Church? He would reply, and very rightly, that you are far too young to decide such a question, and would probably remove you from the convent at once. Almost all parents, even the Catholic ones, are alike in such matters," said Reverend Mother calmly.
"And yet it is the highest destiny to which one could be called," Zella murmured musingly.
"Undoubtedly, but one should be very sure that one has indeed been called to it. Tell me, Zella, when did you first begin to think of this?"
"I—I have been thinking about it, in a way, for some time," stammered Zella, unwilling to descend to a precision which must indicate that exactly forty-eight hours had elapsed since the discovery of her religious vocation.
"Even before I became a Catholic, I used to wonder very much about nuns, and what made them leave their own homes, or even their own country sometimes, and live a hard, mortified life, and yet seem so extraordinarily happy."
Reverend Mother looked, rather more attentively than before, at the enthusiast, who had pinned to her face an expression of mingled awe and spirituality, tinged and irradiated by a sort of innocent confidence.
"And do you still wonder?"
"I think I know, now," softly replied Zella, and felt that she had scored a point.
Reverend Mother was silent for a moment, during which Zella, though by this time with some slight difficulty, still held the component parts of her expression together.
"Well, my dear child," said Reverend Mother at last, to Zella's relief, "it may be that you are indeed called to follow Our Lord in the highest possible way. I need not tell you how deeply glad and thankful I shall be if it proves so. But, on the other hand, this may be, as I said before, simply a good generous impulse that has very likely been permitted in order that you may become more fervent. You must pray much, Zella, and I will pray for you as well, that you may be shown Our Lord's will very clearly."
"I felt I had to tell you," repeated Zella wistfully.
"I am very glad that you did so," kindly returned Reverend Mother, "and we must have some further talks together. Tell me one thing: had you reflected as to which particular Order you might be called upon to enter?"
Zella had not, but instantly recalled the abridged Life of St. Theresa which was being read aloud by one of the mistresses, and glibly replied:
"I want to be a Carmelite, Reverend Mother, more than anything."
"Ah!"
Reverend Mother appeared to be slightly amused, and Zella coloured with annoyance. She also wished that she had not so hastily committed herself to the Order of Mount Carmel, reflecting on the picturesque cornette of a Sister of Charity, and on the greater opportunities afforded to these religious of edifying the outside world.
"Of course, I'm not really sure about the Order," she amended hurriedly. "I don't know very much about different Orders yet."
"That is true," remarked Reverend Mother, " and there is certainly time to decide upon that when we have discovered whether you have indeed received the grace of a religious vocation. I cannot tell about that at present, my child, and neither can you."
Zella looked rather bewildered.
"Your confessor will be your best adviser when the time comes," Reverend Mother explained. "But it has hardly come yet, I think. We must make very sure that you are not mistaking the good and eager impulse of your own heart, newly awakened to the true faith, for the voice of God."
Zella felt annoyed. She would have preferred, had it been possible, an immediate and public renunciation of all that life might be supposed to hold in readiness for her youth and beauty, and a solemn and beautiful ceremony, to take place in full view of all her convent companions, in which the young postulant of seventeen should bind herself, by vows of the most permanent and irrevocable nature, to a life of the highest contemplation and sternest austerity.
Nothing, however, appeared to be farther from Reverend Mother's views than this heroic ideal.
She bade Zella good-night very kindly at the end of the interview, and did not again allude to the absorbing subject until nearly six weeks later.
"And do you still think of some day becoming a nun, Zella?" she then inquired, with a mild appearance of interest.
Zella's face took on a rapt expression. "Yes," she said fervently; "I am quite, quite sure that is what I am meant for."
"Have you thought that such a course would entail many sacrifices?"
A hasty vista of admiring London at her feet, of flatterers crowding round in obsequious homage, opened for a moment before the eager gaze of Zella's ever-ready imagination, only to be brushed aside by the infinitely more alluring picture of a high renunciation.
"Yes, I know," she answered resolutely, and feeling in herself a distinct resemblance to St. Agnes before the Roman Prefect.
"I mean sacrifices on the part of other people—those whom you love. That is always the hardest thought— that one is causing suffering to those whom one loves. Your father, for instance, Zella."
"Oh," said Zella hastily, rather annoyed that the prerogative of sacrifice should be thus passed on to another, "I don't really think that he would mind so very, very much. He—he has a lot of other interests besides me.'
"You think that he would give his consent, then?"
"Oh yes, I think he would give his consent to anything that would make me happy," returned Zella, rather surprised.
She could not imagine Louis issuing a stern prohibition, or declaring that if his daughter became a nun she should never look upon his face again. Interesting though it might be to become the heroine of such a persecution, Zella felt convinced that such could never be her role.
"He might want me to wait a little while, you know," she explained—" perhaps even till I am twenty-one."
"Well, then," said Reverend Mother cheerfully, "that will make a very good probation. If you have indeed a vocation, and are faithful to it, then you will be of all the more use to your community for having seen a little of the world before entering."
"But that would mean waiting about four years," cried Zella, aghast.
"Ah, you would like to do everything at once. But that cannot be, my dear child. It would be neither right nor wise to allow you to take any decisive step at present. Why, you have still much to learn about your religion, is it not so?"
"Yes, of course," said the dissatisfied Zella. A phrase that she had heard recently came to her mind: "Then, you don't think that I—I should be unfaithful to the grace of my vocation, in waiting so long?"
Reverend Mother laughed heartily.
"No, no, certainly not. Do not trouble about that for the present, but be very faithful to the little duties of everyday life, and then—then perhaps we shall see."
She left the room, still laughing.
Zella remained in a curious tumult of conflicting emotions. She was angry that her high and noble purpose should apparently be received as unworthy of serious attention; she was immediately doubtful of her own sincerity because it seemed to her that Reverend Mother doubted it, and yet in some strange contradictory fashion she felt distinctly pleased that Reverend Mother had shown herself so unlike the crafty and yet fanatical nun of tradition, luring the young heiress and her fortune into the convent.
Zella felt curiously proud of Reverend Mother's display of common-sense, even while it surprised and disconcerted her.
Nuns were not at all what Aunt Marianne supposed them to be. With spiritual insight and an intimate acquaintance with the ways of God, they also combined common-sense and a surprising knowledge of the world and of worldly wisdom.
How little all this was realized by those outside! Why, Zella herself had thought the nuns childish and superstitious before light had been vouchsafed to her.