It was a brilliant July day, and the convent at Robeen was decked for a festival.

The occasion was a very great one.

Cloth of gold hung in the chapel, the entrance-hall was splendid with flowers, and the whole white front of the buildings had put on signs of holiday.

Indeed, this festival was unique, the very greatest day in the history of the sisterhood.

Easter, Christmas, and the saints' days recurred annually in their proper order, and the emotions they brought with them were no doubt familiar to holy ladies whose business it was to live in close touch with the other world.