These
all were in the robin's song. Then----
Within the Convent, the Refectory bell clanged loudly.
The Prioress let fall her arms.
She picked up the nosegay of weeds.
"Come, Antony," she said, "let us go and discover whether Sister Mary
Augustine hath contrived to make the pasties light and savoury, even
without the aid of the advice she might have had from thee."
Old Mary Antony, gleeful and marvelling, followed the stately figure of
the Prioress. Never was shriven soul more blissfully at peace. She
had kept back nothing; yet the Reverend Mother had imposed no
punishment, had merely asked a promise which, in the fulness of her
gratitude, Mary Antony had found it easy to give.
Truly the broth of Mother Sub-Prioress should, for the future, contain
naught but what was grateful and soothing.
But, as she entered the Refectory behind the Reverend Mother and saw
all the waiting nuns arise, old Mary Antony laid her finger to her nose.
"That 'little bird' shall have the castor beans," she said, "That
'little bird' shall have them. Not my pretty robin, but the other!"
And, sad to say, poor Sister Seraphine was sorely griped that night,
and suffered many pangs.
CHAPTER VII
THE MADONNA IN THE CLOISTER
The Prioress knelt, in prayer and meditation, before the figure of the
Virgin Mother holding upon her knees the holy Babe.
Moonlight flooded the cell with a pure radiance.
Mary Antony's posy of weeds, offered, according to promise, at the
Virgin's shrine, took on, in that silver splendour, the semblance of
lilies and roses.
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