house set under the shelter of a hill and surrounded by a high wall.
Within this wall lay also the great garden--neglected enough--and the
chapel, a building that still was beautiful in its decay.

Once, indeed, Blossholme Priory, which was older than the Abbey, had
been rich and famous. Its foundress in the time of the first Edward,
a certain Lady Matilda, one of the Plantagenets, who retired from the
world after her husband had been killed in the Crusade, being childless,
endowed it with all her lands. Other noble ladies who accompanied her
there, or sought its refuge in after days, had done likewise, so that
it grew in power and in wealth, till at its most prosperous time over
twenty nuns told their beads within its walls. Then the proud Abbey rose
upon the opposing hill, and obtained some royal charter that the Pope
confirmed, under which the Priory of Blossholme was affiliated to the
Abbey of Blossholme, and the Abbot of Blossholme became the spiritual
lord of its religious. From that day forward its fortunes began to
decline, since under this pretext and that the abbots filched away its
lands to swell their own estates.

So it came about that at the date of our history the total revenue of
this Nunnery was but L130 a year of the money of the day, and even of
this sum the Abbot took tithe and toll. Now in all the great house, that
once had been so full, there dwelt but six nuns, one of whom was, in
fact, a servant, while an aged monk from the Abbey celebrated Mass in
the fair chapel where lay the bones of so many who had gone before. Also
on certain feasts the Abbot himself attended, confessed the nuns, and
granted them absolution and his holy blessing. On these days, too, he
would examine their accounts, and if there were money in hand take a
share of it to serve his necessities, for which reason the Prioress
looked forward to his coming with little joy.

It was to this ancient home of peace that the distraught Cicely and
her servant Emlyn were conveyed upon the morrow of the great burning.
Indeed, Cicely knew it well enough already, since as a child during
three years or more she had gone there daily to be taught by the
Prioress Matilda, for every head of the Priory took this name in turn to
the honour of their foundress and in accordance with the provisions
of her will. Happy years they were, as these old nuns loved her in her
youth and innocence, and she, too, loved them every one. Now, by the
workings of f