Life With Mother Superior (12 page)

I moved off with Mother Superior and headed toward the school. We were to change our clothes and gather our stuff together, then say good-bye to one and all. I felt depressed, not only over leaving St. Marks, but mostly over Mary’s turning traitor on me. How could she do such a thing? Well, she wasn’t my friend any longer. I was crushed.

On the way down to the car I met Mother Superior. She grabbed me and pulled me into her office.

“Have you spoken to Mary yet?” she asked. Mother knew us so well, there was no need for preliminaries.

“No, there’s no need.”

“There is every need. She’s quite upset that you haven’t spoken to her.”

“I should have known,” I muttered, “they’d rope her.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say,” she said; “you know better.”

“I don’t care about Lillian and Rosemary, but Mary’s
my friend.”

“Well, you are going to do just what you want to do, shouldn’t Mary have the same opportunity?”

“She’s too young.” I stubbornly pulled out every chestnut I had ever heard about girls going in the convent.

“Well, is Ginger too young to get married?”

“No, not if she wants to.”

“Is Lillian too young?”

“Lillian was never young.”

Mother Superior laughed. “If people don’t fit your
special pattern, they just won’t do, will they?”

“No,” I said, “it’s just that she should have told me.” I was verging on tears.

“Yes, I think she should have, too. I suppose she
was shy about what you’d say. You know you would
have teased her.”

Tears splashed down my face. It was the first time I had ever cried at St. Marks.

Mother Superior reached out and held me in her sergey arms. “Now, now,” she said, “it’s not the end
of the world. Do me a favor, go and tell Mary you’re
happy for her.”

I shook my head.

“I’ve never asked you for a favor, and I think you owe me quite a few. Will you?”

I mopped my face with her handkerchief. It smelled
of lavender.

“Okay,” I cried, “okay, I’ll go tell her how happy I
am.”

I slowly got control of myself and Mother Superior
herded me out to the hall. I spied Mary down at the end of it.

“But I’ll never understand why,” I said tearfully to
Mother Superior. “I’ll just never understand.”

“You will, when you grow up,” she whispered.