employ their unoccupied time." So saying, she led her guests from the
first floor to the second, and from one room to another. Everything
was neatly and simply arranged. The modest dress of the Sisters, with
their little white caps, their calm diligence in spite of the
exhilarating air of this bright morning, their quiet gait and subdued
voices, the deep silence which pervaded the house, gave one the
sensation of being in a cloister. Sister Agatha conducted the party
into the general workroom. It was built like a deep hall. At long
tables sat numbers of girls with every variety of countenance; all
young, not quite grown, gathered in separate groups, busy with
needlework or writing. The elder ones seemed to supervise the younger
and instruct them in their work. Amongst these was the girl who had
acted the part of guide to the strangers. All rose at the entrance of
the visitors, and after a moment silently resumed their seats.

"Here you see the children of our members, and our dear pupils, all
together. They are sent to us from the most remote colonies and
missions to be educated, and they very soon learn to consider
themselves one with us. Dear Sister Marie," said Agatha, turning to
one of the girls, "please tell Frau Von Trautenau where you were born."
The child addressed, a little girl with olive complexion and keen black
eyes, arose, like a piece of machinery, on being spoken to, and
replied: "At Paramaribo, in Surinam," and dropped back into her seat.

"And you, dear Sister Genevieve?"

"At St. Jean, in the West Indies."

"And Sister Sarah?" "At Sarepta, in Russia, in the province of Saratow."