Then he rose to his feet.
The Bishop said nothing; but an indefinable change came over him.
Again he extended his hand.
The Knight kneeled, and kissed the Bishop's ring.
"I thank you, my lord," he said, "for your great trust in me. I will
not prove unworthy." With this he went back to his seat.
The Bishop, lifting the faggot-fork, carefully stirred and built up the
logs.
"What were we saying, my dear Knight, when we strayed into a side
issue? Ah, I remember! I was telling you of my appointment to the See
of Worcester, and my belief that the Prioress failed to recognise in
me, one she had known long years before."
The Bishop put by the faggot-fork and turned from the fire.
"I found the promise of that radiant girlhood more than fulfilled. She
was changed; she shewed obvious signs of having passed through the
furnace; but pure gold can stand the fire. The strength of purpose,
the noble outlook upon life, the gracious tenderness for others, had
matured and developed. Even the necessary restrictions of monastic
life could not modify the grand lines--both mental, and physical--on
which Nature had moulded her.
"I endeavoured to think no thoughts concerning her, other than should
be thought of a holy lady who has taken vows of celibacy. Yet, seeing
her so fitted to have made house home for a man, helping him upward,
and to have been the mother of a fine race of sons and daughters, I
felt it grievous that in leaving the world for a reason which in no
sense could be considered a true vocation, she should have cut herself
off from such powers and possibilities.
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