Picture
the joy in the bereaved Community! But, above and beyond all, picture
what it would mean to have her there again; to see her, speak with her,
sit with her, when he would. No more loneliness of soul, no more
desolation of spirit; and Mora's conscience at rest; her mind content.
But at that, being that it concerned the woman he loved, the true soul
of him spoke up, while his imaginative reason fell silent.
Never again could the woman who had told Hugh d'Argent, in words of
perfect tenderness, the wonder of her love, and that she was ready on
the morrow to ride home with him, be content in the calm of the
Cloister.
If Hugh persisted in this folly of frankness and disturbed her peace,
she might leave him.
If the Bishop made the way easy, she might return to the Nunnery.
But all the true life of her would be left behind with her lover.
She would bring to the Cloister a lacerated conscience, and a broken
heart.
Surely the two men who loved her, if they thrust away all thought of
self, and thought only of her, could save her this anguish.
At once the Bishop resolved to do his part.
"My dear Hugh," he said, "you did well to come to me in order to
consult over these plans before taking the irrevocable step which
should set them in motion. I, alone, could reinstate your wife as
Prioress of the White Ladies; moreover my continued presence here would
be essential, to secure her comfort in that reinstatement.
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