"And, after all, this miracle of the Divine perception doth take place
daily.
"Alas, when our vaunted roses and lilies appear, in His sight, as mere
worthless weeds.
"The Lord looketh on the heart."
* * * * * *
When the Prioress awoke, the sunlight filled her chamber.
She hastened to the archway between the cells, and looked.
The dandelions seemed more gaily golden, in the morning light. The
bindweed had faded.
The Prioress was disappointed. She had counted upon sending early for
old Mary Antony. She had pictured her bewildered joy. Yet now the
nosegay was as before.
Morning light is ever a test for transformations. Things are apt to
look again as they were.
But a fragrance of roses and lilies still lingered in the chamber.
The blessed Virgin smiled upon the Babe.
And there was peace in the heart of the Prioress. Her long vigil, her
hours of prayer, had won for her the sense of a calm certainty of
coming victory.
Strong in that certainty, she bent, and gently kissed the little feet
of the holy Babe.
Then, as was her wont, she sounded the bell which called the entire
community to arise, and to begin a new day.
CHAPTER VIII
ON THE WINGS OF THE STORM
In the afternoon of that day, Mary Antony awaited, in the cloisters,
the return of the White Ladies from Vespers. Twenty only, had gone;
and, fearful lest she should make mistake with the unusual number, the
old lay-sister spent the time of waiting in counting the twenty peas
afresh, passing them back and forth from one hand to the other.
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