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Barclay, Florence L. (Florence Louisa), 1862-1921

"The White Ladies of Worcester A Romance of the Twelfth Century"


Mary Antony gave that peculiar little chuckle of enjoyment, which had
always marked her pleasure when the very learned made mistakes. It
gave her so great a sense of cleverness.
After this the light faded from the old eyes, and the Bishop had begun
to think they would not again open upon this world, when a strange
thing happened.
There was a flick of wings, and in, through the open window, flew the
robin.
First he perched on the marble hand of the Madonna. Then, with a
joyful chirp, dropped straight to the couch on which lay Mary Antony.
At sound of that chirp, Mary Antony opened her eyes, and saw her much
loved little bird hopping gaily on the coverlet.
"Hey, thou little vain man!" she said. "Ah, naughty Master Pieman!
Art come to look upon old Antony in her bed? The great Lord Bishop
will have thee hanged."
The robin hopped nearer, and pecked gently at the hand which so oft had
fed him, now lying helpless on the quilt.
A look of exquisite delight came into the old woman's eyes.
"Ah, my little Knight of the Bloody Vest," she whispered, "dost want
thy cheese? Wait a minute, while old Antony searches in her wallet."
She sat up suddenly, as if to reach for something.
Then a startled look came into her face. She stretched out appealing
hands to the Bishop.
Instantly he caught them in his.
"Fear not, dear Antony," he said. "All is well."
The robin, spreading his wings, flew out at the window.


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