"
The Knight's eyes, frowning from beneath a shading hand, were gloomy
and full of sombre fury.
It mattered not to him in what surroundings this preposterous offer,
that she should leave the Convent and fly with him to Warwick, had been
made to Seraphine. Her swollen countenance would be equally
unattractive, whether lifted in cell or cloister, or where white clouds
chased one another across the blue sky!
The Knight felt as if he were being chased, and by something more to be
feared than a white cloud. Grim Nemesis pursued him. This reverend
prelate, whom he had deemed so wise, was well-nigh witless. Yet Mora
knew the truth. Would her kind hands deal him so base a blow?
The Bishop saw the brooding rage in the Knight's eyes, and he lowered
his own to the letter, in time to hide their twinkling.
Even the best and bravest of Knights, for having forced his way into a
Nunnery, pressed a suit upon a nun, and escaped unscathed, deserved
some punishment at the hands of the Church!
"Which was generous in the Reverend Mother," said the Bishop, "since
she was inclined, upon the whole, to disapprove this offering of
liberty to the restless nun. You can well understand that, the
responsibility for the good conduct of that entire Community resting
upon the Prioress, she is bound to regard with disfavour any innovation
which might tend to provoke a scandal."
The Bishop did not look up, or he would have seen dull despair
displacing the Knight's anger.
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