During the whole of her nearly four years' novitiate Esther had not been
home once; although Mark and she had corresponded at long intervals,
their letters had been nothing more than formal records of minor events,
and on St. John's eve he drove with the dogcart to meet her, wondering
all the way how much she would have changed. The first thing that struck
him when he saw her alight from the train on Shipcot platform was her
neatness. In old days with windblown hair and clothes flung on anyhow
she had belonged so unmistakably to the open air. Now in her grey habit
and white veil of the novice she was as tranquil as Miriam, and for the
first time Mark perceived a resemblance between the sisters. Her
complexion, which formerly was flushed and much freckled by the open
air, was now like alabaster; and although her auburn hair was hidden
beneath the veil Mark was aware of it like a hidden fire. He had in the
very moment of welcoming her a swift vision of that auburn hair lying on
the steps of the altar a fortnight hence, and he was filled with a wild
desire to be present at her profession and gathering up the shorn locks
to let them run through his fingers like flames. He had no time to be
astonished at himself before they were shaking hands.
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