have loved
each other without a voice saying, `It is sin.' Why was it sin because
we wore black and white habits?"

"But the vows, Margaret! the vows!"

"What vows? I made none, worthy to be called vows. I was bidden, a
little babe of four years, to say `ay' and `nay' at certain times, and
`I am willing,' and so forth. What knew I of the import attaching to
such words? I do ensure thee I knew nothing at all, save that when I
had been good and done as I was told, I should have a pretty little
habit like the Sisters, and be called `Sister' as these grown women
were. Is that what God calls a vow?--a vow of life-long celibacy,
dragged from a babe that knew not what vow nor celibacy were! `Doth God
lack your lie?' saith Job [Job 13, verse 7]. Yea, the Psalmist crieth,
`_Numquid adhaeret Tibi sedes iniquitatis_?' [Psalm 94, verse 20]--Wala
wa! the only thing I marvel is that He thundereth not down with His
great wrath, and delivereth not him that is in misery out of the hand of
him that despoileth."

If it had been any other Sister, I think I should have been horribly
shocked: but do what I would, I could not speak angrily to my own
sister. I wonder if it were very wicked in me! But it surprised me
much that Mother Alianora lay and hearkened, and said nought. Neither
was she asleep, for I glanced at her from time to time, and always saw
her awake and listening. Truly, she had little need of nurses, for it
was no set malady that ailed her--only a gentle, general decay from old
age. Why two of us were set to watch her I could not tell. Had I
thought it possible that Mother Gaillarde could do a thing so foreign to
her nature, I might have fancied that she sent us two there that night
just in order that we might talk and comfort each other. If Mother
Alianora had been the one to do it, I might have thought such a thing:
or if my Lady had sent us herself, I should have supposed she had never
considered the matter: but Mother Gaillarde! Well, whatever reason she
had, I am thankful for that talk with Margaret. So I kept silence, and
my sister pursued her tale.

"He was not a Brother," she said, "but a young man training for the
priesthood under the Master. But not yet had he taken the holy vows,
therefore I suppose thou wilt think him less wicked than me."

She looked up into my face with a half-smile.

"O Margaret! I wis not what to think. It all sounds so strange and
shocking--only that I have not the h