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

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

Glad indeed was
I to let it rest at that; so neither she, nor any in the Convent, knew
aught of your entrance there or your visit to my cell. The Bishop,
you, and I, alone know of it."
"Then I mistake," said the Knight. "But I felt certain I had heard the
name, and that the owner thereof had some knowledge of my movements.
Now, I pray thee, dear Heart, tell me all."
So sitting there on the ramparts of her old home, the stillness of the
fragrant summer night all around, Mora told from the beginning the
wondrous history of the trance of Mary Antony, and the blessed vision
then vouchsafed to her.
The Knight listened with glowing eyes. Once he interrupted to exclaim:
"Oh, true! Most true! More true than thou canst know. Left alone in
thy cell, I kneeled to our Lady, saying those very words: 'Mother of
God, send her to me! Take pity on a hungry heart, a lonely home, a
desolate hearth, and send her to me.' I was alone. Only our Lady whom
I besought, heard those words pass my lips."
Again Hugh kneeled, kissed the medallion, and lifted to heaven eyes
luminous with awe and worship.
Continuing, Mora told him all, even to each detail of her long night
vigil and her prayer for a sign which should be given direct to
herself, so soon granted by the arrival and flight of the robin. But
this failed to impress Hugh, wholly absorbed in the vision, and unable
to see where any element of hesitation or of uncertainty could come in.


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