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Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa), 1862-1921

"The White Ladies of Worcester A Romance of the Twelfth Century"

"Did not you forbid me to
speak of it?"
"True," said the Prioress. "Well, Antony, I went in the storm, to look
for her; but--I found not Sister Agatha."
"That I already knew," said Mary Antony, nodding her head sagaciously.
The Prioress cast upon her a quick, anxious look.
"What mean you, Antony?"
Then old Mary Antony fell upon her knees, and kissed the hem of the
Prioress's robe. "Oh, Reverend Mother," she stammered, "I have a
confession to make!"
"Make it," said the Prioress, with white lips.
"Reverend Mother, when you sent me from you, after making my report, I
went first, as commanded, to the kitchens. But afterward, in my cell,
I found these."
Mary Antony opened her wallet and drew out the linen bag in which she
kept her peas. Shaking its contents into the palm of her hand, she
held out six peas to view.
"Reverend Mother," she said, "there were twenty-five in the bag. I
thought I had counted twenty out into my hand; so when all the peas had
dropped and yet another holy Lady passed, I thought that made
twenty-one. But when I found six peas in my bag, I became aware of my
folly. I had but counted nineteen, and had no pea to let fall for the
twentieth holy Lady. Yet I ran in haste with my false report, when,
had I but thought to look in my wallet, all would have been made clear.
Will the Reverend Mother forgive old Mary Antony?"
She shot a quick glance at the Prioress; and, at sight of the immense
relief on that loved face, felt ready for any punishment with which it
might please Heaven to visit her deceit.


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