Grant unto me to follow in
Her gracious steps, and to rule, as She ruled, by that love which never
faileth."
Then, stooping to the ground, she kissed the place where the feet of
the Prioress had been wont to rest.
The sun had set behind the distant hills, when Mother Sub-Prioress rose
from her knees.
An unspeakable peace filled her soul. She had prayed, by name, for
each member of the Community; and as she prayed, a gift of love for
each had been granted to her.
Ah, would they make discovery, before the morrow, that instead of the
brier had come up the myrtle tree?
With this hope filling her heart, Mother Sub-Prioress hastened along
the passage, and rang the Convent bell.
* * * * * *
And at that moment, Mora stood within her chamber, looking over
terrace, valley, and forest to where the sun had vanished below the
horizon, leaving behind a deep orange glow, paling above to clear blue
where, like a lamp just lit, hung luminous the evening star.
Hugh's arms were still wrapped about her. As they stood together at
the casement, she leaned upon his heart. His strength enveloped her.
His love infused a wondrous sense of well-being, and of home.
Yet of a sudden she lifted her head, as if to listen.
"What is it," questioned Hugh, his lips against her hair.
"Hush!" she whispered. "I seem to hear the Convent bell."
His arms tightened their hold of her.
"Nay, my beloved," he said.
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