"No," he mused, as she resumed her seat, his eyes upon the tree-tops
beyond the casement, "the Seraphines have not the instinct of
motherhood. And the future greatness of our race depends upon those
noble women who are able to pass on to their sons and daughters a life
which is true, and brave, and worthy; a life whose foundation is
self-sacrifice, whose cornerstone is loyalty, and from whose summit
waves the banner of unsullied love of hearth and home.
"A woman with the true instinct of motherhood cannot see a little child
without yearning to clasp it to her bosom. When she finds her mate,
she thinks more of being the mother of his children than the object of
his devotion, because the Self in her is subservient to the maternal
instinct for self-sacrifice. These women are pure as snow, and they
hold their men to the highest and the best. Such women are needed in
the world. Our Lady knoweth, I speak not lightly, unadvisedly nor
wantonly; but were Seraphine such an one as this, I should say; 'Leave
the door on the latch. Without permission, yet without reproach--let
her go.'"
"Were Seraphine such an one as that, my lord," said the Prioress,
firmly, "then would there be no question of her going. If the
cornerstone of character be loyalty, the very essential of loyalty is
the keeping of vows."
"Quite so," murmured the Bishop; "undoubtedly, my daughter. Unless, by
some strange fatality, those vows were made under a total
misapprehension.
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