Mind you don't stir till supper's over. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. His inclinations prompted him most decidedly to take the vacant chair. The nuns wore their habit, and said all their offices, and went about their tasks unobtrusively, relieving the poor and needy and tending the sick. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. You wanted to play a lone hand. If he could keep it up—style and calibre of imagination—within a year the name of Taber would become widely known. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. Just then—I was nervous.
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