"
"True, my son," said the Bishop, at once gently acquiescent; for Symon
of Worcester invariably yielded a point which had been misunderstood.
For over-rating a mind with which he conversed, this was ever his
self-imposed penance. "Your great strength would be fully equal to
lifting ladies over pitfalls. Which recalls to my mind a scene in this
day's events, which I would fain describe to you before we part."
CHAPTER XXII
WHAT BROTHER PHILIP HAD TO TELL
The Bishop sat back in his chair, smiling, as at a mental picture which
gave him pleasure, coupled with some amusement.
Ignoring the Knight's sullen silence, he began his story in the
cheerful voice which takes for granted a willing and an interested
listener.
"When the Prioress and myself were discussing your hopes, my son, and I
was urging, in your interests, liberty of flight for Sister Mary
Seraphine, I informed the Reverend Mother that the carrying out of your
plans, carefully laid in order to keep any scandal concerning the White
Ladies from reaching the city, would involve for Seraphine a ride of
many hours to Warwick, almost immediately upon safely reaching the Star
hostel. This seemed as nothing to the lover who, by his own shewing,
had ofttimes seen her 'ride like a bird, all day, on the moors.' But
to us who know the effect of monastic life and how quickly such matters
as these become lost arts through disuse, this romantic ride in the
late afternoon and on into the summer night, loomed large as a possible
obstacle to the successful flight of Seraphine.
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