to see how close he would
adventure to her hand.

She watched him peck a morsel of cheese into five tiny pieces, then
fly, with full beak, on eager wing, to the hidden nest, from which five
gaping mouths shrieked a shrill and hungry welcome. Then, back
again--swift as an arrow from the archer's bow--noting, with bright
eye, and head turned sidewise, that the hand resting on the coping had
moved nearer; yet brave to take all risks for the sake of those yellow
beaks, which would gape wide, in expectation, at sound of the beat of
his wings.

"Feed thyself, thou little worldling!" chuckled old Antony, and covered
the remaining bits of cheese with her hand. "Who art thou to come here
presuming to teach thy betters lessons of self-sacrifice? First feed
thyself; then give to the hungry, the fragments that remain. Had I
five squealing children here--which Heaven forbid--I should eat mine
own mess, and count myself charitable if I let them lick the dish. The
holy Ladies give to the poor at the Convent gate, that for which they
have no further use. Does thy jaunty fatherhood presume to shame our
saintly celibacy? Mother Sub-Prioress did chide me sharply because, to
a poor soul with many hungry mouths to feed, I gave a good piece of
venison, and not the piece which was tainted. Truth to tell, I had
already made away with the tainted piece; but Mother Sub-Prioress was
pleased to think it was in the pot, seething for the holy Ladies'
evening meal; and wherefore should Mother Sub-Prioress not think as she
pleased?

"'Woman!' she cried; 'Woman!'--and when Mother Sub-Prioress says
'Woman!' the woman she addresses feels her estate would be higher had
God Almighty been pleased to have let her be the Man, or even the
Serpent, so much contempt does Mother Sub-Prioress infuse into the
name--'Woman!' said Mother Sub-Prioress, 'wouldst thou make all the
Ladies of the Convent ill?'

"'Nay,' said I, 'that would I not. Yet, if any needs must be ill,
'twere easier to tend the holy Ladies in their cells, than the Poor, in
humble homes, outside the Convent walls, tossing on beds of rushes.'

"'Tush, fool!' snarled Mother Sub-Prioress. "'The Poor are not easily
made ill.'

"Tush indeed! I tell thee, little bright-eyed man, old Antony, can
'tush' to better purpose! That night there were strong purging herbs
in the broth of Mother Sub-Prioress. Yet she did but keep her bed for
one day. Like the Poor, she is not easily made ill!