"Speak low, dear Sister
Antony; partly to spare thy strength; and partly because, though I have
sent all the White Ladies to their cells, our good Mother Sub-Prioress,
in her natural anxiety for thy welfare, may be outside the door, even
now."
Mary Antony chuckled.
"If we could but thrust a nail through into her ear," she whispered.
Then suddenly serious, she put the question which already her eyes had
asked: "Did I succeed in keeping from them the flight of the Reverend
Mother, until you arrived, Reverend Father?"
"Yes, faithful heart, wise beyond all expectation, you did."
Again Mary Antony chuckled.
"I locked them out," she said, with a knowing wink, "but I also took
them in. Yea, verily, I took them in! Scores of times they called me
'Reverend Mother.' 'Open the door, I humbly pray you, Reverend
Mother,' pleaded Mother Sub-Prioress at the keyhole. '_Dixi: Custodiam
vias meas_,' chanted Mary Antony, in a beauteous voice! . . . 'Open,
open, Reverend Mother!' besought a multitude without. '_Quid
multiplicati sunt gui tribulant me_!' intoned Mary Antony,
within. . . . 'Most dear and Reverend Mother,' crooned Sister Mary
Rebecca, at midnight, 'I have something of deepest importance to
say'--'_Dixit insipiens_,' was Mary Antony's appropriate response. Eh,
and Sister Mary Rebecca, thinking none could observe her, had already
been round, in the moonlight, and attempted to climb a tree. All the
Reverend Mother's windows were closely curtained; but old Antony had
her eye to a crack, and the sight of Sister Mary Rebecca climbing, made
all the other trees to shake with laughter, but is not a sight to be
described to the great Lord Bishop.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302