It has come to seem to me
unbearably sad that you and I and these few here, who could do such
good work, should be kept back from doing it."
"I am afraid our habit, Father, makes that sort of work out of the
question for us." And Sister Winifred dropped her habit for a moment
and let it trail gracefully.
"Long, grey habits, that a speck of dirt will stain, are very
suitable to trail over green swards, but not fit to bring into the
houses of the poor, for fear they should be spoiled. "Oh," he cried,
"I have no patience with such rules, such petty observances. I have
often asked myself why the Bishop chose to put me here, where I am
entirely out of sympathy, where I am useless, where there is nothing
for me to do really, except to try to keep my temper. I have spoken of
this matter to no one before, but, since you have come to speak to me,
Sister Winifred, I, too, must speak. Ever since I've been here I've
been longing for some congenial work--work which I could feel I was
intended to do. It seems hard at times to feel one's life slipping
away and the work one could do always withheld from one's reach. You
understand?"
"Indeed, I do. It is the fate of many of us here, Father Daly.
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