wly, with
measured tread--each step a careful following up of the step which went
before--not with the leaps and bounds and capers of the laity. In due
time we shall reach the message.

"Well, in this conversation the Prioress appears to have complied with
my suggestions, excepting in the matter of one most important detail,
concerning which she used her own discretion. I distinctly advised her
to tell Seraphine that we were aware of your arrival, and that to my
certain knowledge you were in the crypt each afternoon at the hour when
the White Ladies pass to and from Vespers. In fact, my dear Knight, I
even went so far as to suggest to the Reverend Mother to give Sister
Mary Seraphine to understand that if she stepped aside, losing her way
among the many pillars, you would probably know what to do next.

"But the Reverend Mother writes"--at last the Bishop began to read: "'I
felt so sure from your description of the noble Knight who came to you
in his trouble, that he cannot be the lover of this shallow-hearted
little Seraphine, that I deemed it wise not to tell her of his arrival,
nor to mention your idea, that the woman he seeks is to be found in
this Nunnery.'"

The smothered sound which broke from the Knight was a mixture of
triumph, relief, and most bitter laughter.

"Now that is like the Prioress," said the Bishop; "thus to use her own
judgment, setting at naught my superior knowledge of the facts, and
flouting my authority! A noble nature, Hugh, and most lovable; yet an
imperious will, and a strength of character and purpose unusual in a
woman. Had she remained in the world and married, her husband would
have found it somewhat difficult wholly to mould her to his will. Yet
to possess such a woman would have been worth adventuring much. But I
must not fret you, dear lad, by talking of the Prioress, when your mind
is intent upon arriving at the decision of Seraphine.

"Well, I fear me, I have but sorry news for you. The Reverend Mother
writes: 'Sister Mary Seraphine expressed herself as completely
satisfied with the cloistered life. She declared that her desire to
return to the world had been but a passing phase, of which she was
completely purged by the timely discipline of Mother Sub-Prioress, and
by the fact that she has been appointed, with Sister Mary Gabriel, to
embroider the new altar-cloth for the Chapel. She talked more eagerly
about a stitch she is learning from Mary Gabriel, than about any