egg-and-dart friezes and pink scrolls and stucco garlands until it found its way back to the sober scene below.
Kneeling in the front row she could see a man in a black cassock who must be a priest, and near him she now made out with an unpleasant shock a shapeless pile of squatting black cloth that must be a nun. Behind them, in a group with James and Toby, there were three or four men. Mrs Mark was to be seen, kneeling very upright, her head covered by a crumpled check handkerchief which she must have whipped out as she came through the door. The dark girl whom Dora had glimpsed in the hall was kneeling nearer to the back, her face covered in her hands and bent very low. She had cast a scarf of black lace over her head and beneath it there appeared the black knot of her hair, glistening in the bright light. There were no other women.
Someone began to speak and Dora jumped guiltily. She listened, but could not follow what was being said. The speaker appeared to be the priest at the front. After listening for a little longer Dora realized that it must be Latin . She was dismayed and distinctly shocked. She had retained her prejudices when she lost her religion. A murmur of voices suddenly surrounded her, and a dialogue was begun between the priest and the congregation. Dora ventured a quick glance sideways at Paul. He knelt with shoulders squared and hands behind him, looking ahead and slightly upward toward the cross at the far end of the room. He had the solemn somewhat noble look which he often wore when he was thinking about his work, but rarely when he was thinking about his wife. Dora wondered whether, happily, his mind was turned to higher things, or whether the religious scene had wrought some change in his feelings. She must remember to ask him, some time when he was in a good temper, whether he believed in God. It was absurd not to know.
Dora suddenly noticed that the nun in the front row had turned round and was looking at her. The nun was fairly young and had a wide ruddy face and strong intent eyes. With the detachment from her devotional surroundings which can best be shown by those whose profession is devotion she scrutinized Dora with unsmiling objectivity for a moment or two. Then she turned away and whispered something over her shoulder to Mrs Mark who was kneeling just behind her. Mrs Mark also turned round and looked at Dora. Dora felt herself becoming red with alarm. There was a cold familiar inevitability about these looks. With the resignation of one who had never in her life got away with anything Dora watched Mrs Mark get up and tiptoe round the chairs to the back so that she could lean over Doraâs shoulder. Dora twisted round, trying to hear what it was that Mrs Mark was now whispering in her ear.
â What? â said Dora, more loudly than she had intended.
âSister Ursula says please would you mind covering your head? Itâs customary here.â
âI havenât got anything!â said Dora, ready to burst into tears of embarrassment and vexation.
âA hanky will do,â whispered Mrs Mark, smiling encouragement.
Dora fumbled in her pocket and found a small not very clean handkerchief which she laid on top of her head. Mrs Mark tiptoed away, and the nun looked back once more with amiable satisfaction.
Blushing violently, Dora stared ahead of her. She could see that Paulâs expression had changed, but she dared not look at him. She clutched the back of the chair in front. The Latin mumbling went on. Dora became conscious that her skirt was intolerably tight and that a ladder was slowly spreading down one of her stockings. Her feet were hurting and she became suddenly aware that it is extremely uncomfortable to kneel with high-heeled shoes on. She began to look distractedly about the room. She could not see it as a chapel. It was a shabby derelict pitiable drawing-room, harbouring an alien rite, half sinister, half ludicrous. Dora drew a deep breath and rose to
Kneeling in the front row she could see a man in a black cassock who must be a priest, and near him she now made out with an unpleasant shock a shapeless pile of squatting black cloth that must be a nun. Behind them, in a group with James and Toby, there were three or four men. Mrs Mark was to be seen, kneeling very upright, her head covered by a crumpled check handkerchief which she must have whipped out as she came through the door. The dark girl whom Dora had glimpsed in the hall was kneeling nearer to the back, her face covered in her hands and bent very low. She had cast a scarf of black lace over her head and beneath it there appeared the black knot of her hair, glistening in the bright light. There were no other women.
Someone began to speak and Dora jumped guiltily. She listened, but could not follow what was being said. The speaker appeared to be the priest at the front. After listening for a little longer Dora realized that it must be Latin . She was dismayed and distinctly shocked. She had retained her prejudices when she lost her religion. A murmur of voices suddenly surrounded her, and a dialogue was begun between the priest and the congregation. Dora ventured a quick glance sideways at Paul. He knelt with shoulders squared and hands behind him, looking ahead and slightly upward toward the cross at the far end of the room. He had the solemn somewhat noble look which he often wore when he was thinking about his work, but rarely when he was thinking about his wife. Dora wondered whether, happily, his mind was turned to higher things, or whether the religious scene had wrought some change in his feelings. She must remember to ask him, some time when he was in a good temper, whether he believed in God. It was absurd not to know.
Dora suddenly noticed that the nun in the front row had turned round and was looking at her. The nun was fairly young and had a wide ruddy face and strong intent eyes. With the detachment from her devotional surroundings which can best be shown by those whose profession is devotion she scrutinized Dora with unsmiling objectivity for a moment or two. Then she turned away and whispered something over her shoulder to Mrs Mark who was kneeling just behind her. Mrs Mark also turned round and looked at Dora. Dora felt herself becoming red with alarm. There was a cold familiar inevitability about these looks. With the resignation of one who had never in her life got away with anything Dora watched Mrs Mark get up and tiptoe round the chairs to the back so that she could lean over Doraâs shoulder. Dora twisted round, trying to hear what it was that Mrs Mark was now whispering in her ear.
â What? â said Dora, more loudly than she had intended.
âSister Ursula says please would you mind covering your head? Itâs customary here.â
âI havenât got anything!â said Dora, ready to burst into tears of embarrassment and vexation.
âA hanky will do,â whispered Mrs Mark, smiling encouragement.
Dora fumbled in her pocket and found a small not very clean handkerchief which she laid on top of her head. Mrs Mark tiptoed away, and the nun looked back once more with amiable satisfaction.
Blushing violently, Dora stared ahead of her. She could see that Paulâs expression had changed, but she dared not look at him. She clutched the back of the chair in front. The Latin mumbling went on. Dora became conscious that her skirt was intolerably tight and that a ladder was slowly spreading down one of her stockings. Her feet were hurting and she became suddenly aware that it is extremely uncomfortable to kneel with high-heeled shoes on. She began to look distractedly about the room. She could not see it as a chapel. It was a shabby derelict pitiable drawing-room, harbouring an alien rite, half sinister, half ludicrous. Dora drew a deep breath and rose to
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