"Sister Jacobi?"

"At Batavia, in Java."

"Sister Carmen?"

Similarly to all those called before, Carmen rose also, when Sister
Agatha mentioned her name; but it seemed an involuntary motion, as if
in obedience to a command, and then, after a second's hesitation, she
at once resumed her seat. During the entire proceedings her glance had
wandered with painful eagerness, now to Frau von Trautenau, now to her
eldest son, and had remarked how this questioning of the girls had
seemed to amuse them. At last, when her name was called, a deep blush
suffused Carmen's lovely face, and she could not summon courage to
answer.

"Dear Sister Carmen!" repeated the Superior, as if she thought Carmen
had not heard the first call.

"Oh, please---" now interposed Frau von Trautenau, endeavoring to
assist the girl when she saw her painful confusion. She stroked back
from Carmen's brow the curly locks which had escaped from under the
edge of the little white cap, saying: "Never mind! I can fancy, from
her pretty name, that her cradle was rocked in Spain, if not in a still
more distant and beautiful clime. Is it not so, dear child?"

There was so much delicate consideration in the tone and manner of Frau
von Trautenau towards the embarrassed girl that Carmen, with an impulse
of sincere gratitude, bent over her friendly hand and kissed it.