pake it.

The Sister chosen to succeed her as Mother is Sister Ismania. I am glad
of it, for she is certainly fittest for the place. Mother Joan becomes
the senior Mother.

Our new Prioress does not let the grass grow under her feet, and is very
different from her predecessor. During the first week after her
appointment, such quantities of household articles began to pour in--
whereof, in sooth, we stood in grievous need--that we Mothers were at
our wits' end where to put them. I thought the steward's man would
never have done coming to the grating with such announcements as--"Five
hundredweight of wax, if you please, ladies; a hundred pounds of
candles, ladies; twenty oaks for firewood, ladies; two sacks of seacoal,
ladies; ten pieces of nuns' cloth, ladies; a hundred ells of cloth of
linen, ladies; six firkins of speckled Bristol soap, ladies,"--cloth of
Sarges [serge], cloth of Blanket [Note 1], cloth of Rennes; mops,
bougets, knives, beds; cups, jugs, and amphoras; baskets by the dozen;
quarters of wheat, barley, oats, beans, peas, and lentils; stockfish and
ling, ginger and almonds, pipes of wine and quarts of oil--nay, I cannot
tell what there was not. Sister Ada lost her temper early, and sorely
bewailed her hard lot in having first to carry and find room for all
these things, and secondly to use them. The old ways had suited her
well enough: she could not think what my Lady wanted with all this
mopping and scouring. Even Sister Joan said a little sarcastically that
she thought my Lady must be preparing for the possibility of our having
to stand a siege. My Lady, who heard both behind their backs, smiled
her grim smile and went on. She does not keep in her own rooms like the
last Prioress, but is here, there, and every where. Those of the
Sisters who are indolently inclined dislike her rule exceedingly. For
myself, I think in truth we have been going along too easily, and am
glad to see the reins tightened and the horse admonished to be somewhat
brisker: yet I cannot say that I can always keep pace with my Lady, and
at times I am aware of a feeling of being driven on faster than I can go
without being out of breath, and perhaps risking a fall. A little
occasional rest would certainly be a relief. Howbeit, life is our
working-day: and there will be time to rest in Heaven.

Joan tells me that she has had some talk with Father Mortimer, and finds
that her mother and he were cousins, he being the only