e Prioress, and she ventured to
inquire after Esclairmonde de Luxembourg, or, as she was now called,
Sister Clare of St. Katharine's.

'I see her at times. She is the head of the sisters,' said the Prioress;
'but we have few dealings with uncloistered sisters.'

'They do a holy work,' observed Lady Lilias.

'None ever blamed the Benedictines for lack of alms-deeds,' returned the
Prioress haughtily, scarcely attending to the guest's disclaimer. 'Nor
do I deem it befitting that instead of the poor coming to us our sisters
should run about to all the foulest hovels of the Docks, encountering
men continually, and those of the rudest sort.'

'Yet there are calls and vocations for all,' ventured Lady Drummond.
'And the sick are brethren in need.'

'Let them send to us for succour then,' answered Mother Margaret. 'I
grant that it is well that some one should tend them in their huts, but
such tasks are for sisters of low birth and breeding. Mine are ladies of
noble rank, though I do admit daughters of Lord Mayors and Aldermen.'

'Our Saint Margaret was a queen, Reverend Mother,' put in Eleanor.

'She was no nun, saving your Grace,' said the Prioress. 'What I speak of
is that which beseems a daughter of St. Bennet, of an ancient and royal
foundation! The saving of the soul is so much harder to the worldly
life, specially to a queen, that it is no marvel if she has to abase
herself more--even to the washing of lepers--than is needful to a vowed
and cloistered sister.'

It was an odd theory, that this Benedictine seclusion saved trouble,
as being actually the strait course; but the young maidens were not
scholars enough to question it, and Dame Lilias, though she had learnt
more from her brother and her friend, would have deemed it presumptuous
to dispute with a Reverend Mother. So only Eleanor murmured, 'The holy
Margaret no saint'--and Jean, 'Weel, I had liefer take my chance.'

'All have not a vocation,' piously said the Mother. 'Taste this Rose
Dalmoyne, Madame; our lay-sister Mold is famed for making it. An
alderman of the Fishmongers' Company sent to beg that his cook might
know the secret, but that was not to be lightly parted with, so we only
send them a dish for their banquets.'

Rose Dalmoyne was chiefly of peas, flavoured with almonds and milk, but
the guests grew weary of the varieties of delicacies, and were very glad
when the tables were removed, and Eleanor asked permission to look at
the illuminations in