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Updated: May 19, 2025
She must have heard the distant clang of the bell, for she was evidently waiting for him. "Am I in time?" he asked in a tone of anxiety. She shook her head slowly. "Is she dead?" "She was dead before I sent for you," answered Maria Addolorata, in a low and almost solemn tone. "No one knows it yet." "I feared so," said Dalrymple.
And the young one will be the next, when this one dies. She is Maria Addolorata, in religion, but I do not know her real name. She has a beautiful face and dark eyes. Once I saw her hair for a moment. It is fair, but not like yours. Yours is red as a tomato." "Thank you," said Dalrymple, with something like a laugh. "Tell me more about the nun."
She was grateful to Dalrymple, and it seemed to her that the most proper way of showing her gratitude would be to save his soul, a point of view unusual in the ordinary relations of life. On this particular day, Maria Addolorata shut the door, and came forward into the parlour as usual.
At the head of each was pinned a crucifix and a little picture of the Virgin, Maria Addolorata, with a palm branch that had been blessed, and beneath the picture in the inner room a tiny light, rather like an English night-light near its end, was burning. It was this that Delarey had seen like a spark in the distance.
Yet it was characteristic of the man that he had not chosen suicide as a means of escape, as he would have done in his earlier years, if Maria Addolorata had failed him. It seemed cowardly now, and he had never done anything cowardly in his life. Through his grief the sense of responsibility had remained with him, and had kept him alive.
"You seem to forget that this is a religious house," replied the abbess, and she might have said more, but was interrupted by a violent attack of coughing, during which Maria Addolorata supported her and tried to ease her. "It will be better if you go away," said the nun, at last. "I will do all you have ordered, and your presence irritates her.
He tried in vain to form plans and create reasons for seeing Maria Addolorata even once a month for some time to come, but his ingenuity failed him altogether, and he grew angry with himself for desiring what was manifestly impossible.
The woman showed her the little tablet erected in memory of Maria Addolorata, and she told the story as she had heard it, and dwelt upon the funeral services and the masses which had been said. "At least, she is in peace," said Gloria, in a low voice, staring at the tablet. Vol. "Poor Annetta used to say that Sister Maria Addolorata sinned in her throat," said Nanna. "But you see.
And even in his dreams he was restless still, so that when he awoke in the morning he said to himself that he had been foolish in his behaviour towards Maria Addolorata on the previous day. He felt tired, too, and his colour was less brilliant than usual.
He was making a strong effort to concentrate his attention upon the learned treatise, which formed a part of the little library he had brought with him. But Annetta's idle talk about the nuns, and especially about Maria Addolorata and her singing, kept running through his head in spite of his determination to be serious.
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