'Love suffereth long, and
is kind; love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up;
doth not behave itself unseemly; seeketh not her own; is not easily
provoked, thinking no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in
the truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things,
endureth all things. Love never faileth.' Methinks," said the Bishop,
in a tone of gentle meditation, as he entered the Prioress's cell, "the
apostle was speaking of a most human love; yet he rated it higher than
faith and hope."
"Are you still dwelling upon Sister Mary Seraphine, my lord?" inquired
the Prioress, and in her voice he heard the sound of a gathering storm.
"Nay, my dear Prioress," said the Bishop, seating himself in the
Spanish chair, and laying his biretta upon the table near by; "I speak
not of self-love, nor does the apostle whose words I quote. I take it,
he writes of human love, sanctified; upborne by faith and hope, yet
greater than either; just as a bird is greater than its wings, yet
cannot mount without them. We must have faith, we must have hope; then
our poor earthly loves can rise from the lower level of self-seeking
and self-pleasing and take their place among those things that are
eternal."
The Prioress had placed her chair opposite the Bishop. She was very
pale, and her lips trembled. She made so great an effort to speak with
calmness, that her voice sounded stern and hard.
Pages:
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206