he courtyard; and, seeing old Antony
standing in the doorway, mistook her for the Reverend Mother. That was a
great moment in the life of Mary Antony, and confers upon her added
dignity.

"'So turn out thy toes, and make thy best bow, and behave thee as a
little layman should behave in the presence of one who hath been mistaken
for one holding so high an office in Holy Church.'

"Thus," explained Mary Antony, "had I planned to strike awe into the
little red breast of that over-bold robin."

"And came the robin to the cloisters?" inquired the Prioress, presently,
for Mary Antony lay upon her pillow laughing to herself, nodding and
bowing, and making her fingers hop to and fro on the coverlet, as a bird
might hop with toes out turned. Nor would she be recalled at once to the
happenings of the afternoon.

"The great Lord Bishop did address me as 'worthy Mother,'" she remarked;
"not 'Reverend Mother,' as we address our noble Prioress. And this has
given me much food for thought. Is it better to be worthy and not
reverend, or reverend and not worthy? Our large white sow, when she did
contrive to have more little pigs in her litters, than ever our sows had
before; and, after a long and fruitful life, furnished us with two
excellent hams, a boar's head, and much bacon, was a worthy sow; but
never was she reverend, not even when Mother Sub-Prioress pronounced the
blessing over her face, much beautified by decoration--grand ivory tusks,
and a lemon in her mouth! Never, in life, had she looked so fair; which
is indeed, I believe, the case with many. Yet, for all her worthiness,
she was not reverend. Also I have heard tell of a certain Prior, not
many miles from here, who, borrowing money, never repays it; who
oppresses the poor, driving them from the Priory gate; who maltreats the
monks, and is kind unto none, saving unto himself. He--it seems--is
reverend but not worthy. While thou, Master Redbreast, art certainly not
reverend; the saints, and thine own conscience, alone know whether thou
art worthy.

"This," explained Mary Antony, "was how I had planned to point a moral to
that jaunty little worldling."

"They who are reverend must strive to be also worthy," said the Prioress;
"while they who count themselves to be worthy, must think charitably of
those to whom they owe reverence. Came the robin to thee in the
cloisters, Antony?"

The old woman's manner changed. She fixed her eyes upon the Prioress,
and spo