For her sake, when he heard that she had entered the Convent of the
White Ladies, he obtained the appointment to the see of Worcester,
leaving the sunny land he loved, and the prospect of far higher
preferment there.
And now for her sake he rode away from Warwick as fast as steed could
carry him, leaving her the bride of another, in whose hand he had
himself placed hers, pronouncing the Church's blessing upon their union.
Riding away--leaving behind; leaving behind--riding away. This was
what his love had ever brought him.
Yet he felt rich to-day, finding himself in possession of the certain
knowledge that he had been right in judging necessary, that first
departure into exile long years ago.
For had not Mora told him--little dreaming to whom she spoke--that
there was a time when he had stood to her for all her heart held
dearest; yet that she had loved him, not as a girl loves a man, but
rather as a nun loves her Lord.
But surely a man would need to be divine to be so loved, and to hold
such love aright. And, even then, when that other man arrived who
would fain woo her to love him as a girl loves a man, would her heart
be free to respond to the call of nature? Nay. To all intents and
purposes, her heart would be a cloistered thing; yet would she be
neither bride of Christ nor bride of man. The fire in his eyes would
indeed have called her to an altar, and the sacrifice laid thereon
would be the full completion of her womanhood.
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