The robin sang. Our Lady smiled. The Babe on her knees looked merry.
The Prioress lay watching, not daring to move; her head resting on the
Sacramentary.
Then into her mind there came the suggestion of a test--a sign.
"If he fly around the chamber," she whispered, "my place is here. But
if he fly straight out into the open, then doth our blessed Lady bid me
also to arise and go."
And, scarce had she so thought, when, with a last triumphant trill of
joy, straight from our Lady's hand, like an arrow from the bow, the
robin shot through the open casement, and out into the sunny,
newly-awakened world beyond.
The Prioress rose, folded her cloak, placed the book back upon the
table; then kneeled before the shrine, took off her cross of office,
and laid it upon our Lady's hand, from whence the little bird had flown.
Then with bowed head, pale face, hands meekly crossed upon her breast,
the Prioress knelt long in prayer.
The breeze of an early summer morn, blew in at the open window, and
fanned her cheek.
In the garden without, the robin sang to his mate.
At length the Prioress rose, moving as one who walked in a strange
dream, passed into the inner cell, and sought her couch.
The Bishop's prayer had been answered.
The Prioress had been given grace and strength to choose the harder
part, believing the harder part to be, in very deed, God's will for her.
And, as she laid her head at last upon the pillow, a prayer from the
Gregorian Sacramentary slipped into her mind, calming her to sleep,
with its message of overruling power and eternal peace.
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