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Updated: May 2, 2025
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.
The nuns, in a frightened crowd, filled the doorway, none daring to speak, or to enter; till old Mary Antony, pushing past the Sub-Prioress, kneeled down beside the Reverend Mother, and, lifting the hem of her robe, kissed it and pressed it to her breast. Slowly the Prioress let fall her arms. "Enter," she said; and they flocked in.
The Prioress turned and looked at the tender figure of the Madonna, brooding over the blessèd Babe. "No," said the Prioress. Mother Sub-Prioress frowned, and made a further modification; but in tones which suggested finality. The Prioress inclined her head. The Sub-Prioress, bowing low, lifted the hem of the Reverend Mother's veil, and kissed it; then passed from the room.
A large white pea, of finer aspect than the rest, stood for the noble Prioress herself; a somewhat shrivelled pea, hard, brown, and wizened, did duty as Mother Sub-Prioress, an elderly nun, not loved by Mary Antony because of her sharp tongue and strict fault-finding ways; while a pale and speckled pea became Sister Mary Rebecca, held in high scorn by the old lay-sister, as a traitress, sneak, and liar, for if ever tale of wrong or shame was whispered in the Convent, it could be traced for place of origin to the slanderous tongue and crooked mind of Sister Mary Rebecca.
Complete silence reigned. The White Ladies had returned from Vespers. Each, in the solitude of her own cell, was spending, in prayer and meditation, the hour until the Refectory bell should ring. The great door into the cloisters stood wide. Mother Sub-Prioress appeared in the far distance, moving down the passage.
She must have heard the half-strangled sob burst from the slight figure stumbling up the steps before her, had not old Mary Antony been suddenly moved at that moment to uplift her voice in a cracked and raucous "Amen." Startled, and vexed at being startled, the Sub-Prioress turned upon Mary Antony. "Peace, woman!" she said. "The Convent cloister is not a hen-yard.
Slightly wondering, and half unconsciously explaining to herself that the old lay-sister had probably for some reason gone forward with the Sub-Prioress, the Prioress moved down the now empty passage and entered her own cell. On the threshold she paused, astonished.
In a little while, however, she returned "Would the good mother promise, at least, to offer no opposition, if Dorothea Stettin proposed, of her own free will, to resign the office of sub-prioress? If so, let her reach forth her hand; she would soon find the pains leave her."
As he quoted Mary Antony, the old lay-sister's odd manner and movements could be seen; her mumbling lips, and cunning wink. And here was Mother Sub-Prioress, ferret-faced and peering; and here Sister Mary Rebecca, long-nosed, flat-footed, eager to scent out and denounce wrong doing.
Old Mary Antony below, playing her favourite game, also paused, and pricked up her ears: then filliped the wizen pea, which stood for Mother Sub-Prioress, into the darkest corner, and hurried off to brew a soothing balsam. So, when the Refectory bell had summoned all to the evening meal, the old lay-sister crept to the cell of Mary Seraphine, carrying broth and comfort.
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