"I scarce know what to say," replied the Bishop. "For lack of anything
better, I fall back upon my favourite motto, and I say: 'Love never
faileth.'"
Now, generally, she delighted in the exceeding aptness of the Bishop's
quotations; but this time it seemed to Mora that his favourite motto
bore no sort of relevance.
She felt, with a chill of disappointment and a sense of vexation, that
the Bishop's mind had been so intent upon the fruit, that he had not
fully taken in the wonder of the vision.
"It has naught to do with love, my lord," she said, rather coldly;
"unless you mean the divine lovingkindness of our blessed Lady."
"Precisely," replied the Bishop, leaning back in his seat, and at
length looking straight into Mora's earnest eyes. "The divine
lovingkindness of our blessed Lady never faileth."
"You agree, my lord, that the vision shed a clear light upon all my
perplexities?"
"Absolutely clear," replied the Bishop. "The love which arranged the
vision saw to that. Revelations, my daughter, are useless unless they
are explicit. Had our Lady merely waved her marble hand, instead of
stooping to take yours and place it in that of the Knight, you might
have thought she was waving him away, and bidding you to remain. If
her marble hand moved at all, it is well that it moved in so definite
and practical a manner."
"It seems to me, Reverend Father," said Mora, leaning upon the table,
her face framed in her hands, and looking with knitted brows at the
Bishop; "it almost seems to me that you regard the entire vision with a
measure of secret incredulity.
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