etter he had intrusted to Brother Philip, sealed with his own
signet, was addressed to Sir Hugh d'Argent. But within was written:

_Will the Countess of Norelle be pleased to accept of the palfrey
Iconoklastes as a marriage gift from her old friend Symon Wygorn._

CHAPTER XXXIII

MARY ANTONY HOLDS THE FORT

Mary Antony awaited in the cloisters the return of the White Ladies
from Vespers.

The old lay-sister was not in the mood for gay chatter to the robin,
nor even for quaint converse with herself.

She sat upon the stone seat, looking very frail, and wearing a wistful
expression, quite unlike her usual alert demeanour.

As she sat, she slowly dropped the twenty-five peas from her right
hand, to her left, and back again.

A wonderful thing had happened on that afternoon, just before the White
Ladies set forth to the Cathedral.

All were assembling in the cloisters, when word arrived that the
Reverend Mother wished to speak, in her cell, with Sister Mary Antony.

Hastening thither she found the Reverend Mother standing, very white
and silent, very calm and steadfast, looking out from the oriel window.

At first she did not turn; and Mary Antony stood waiting, just within
the doorway.

Then she turned, and said: "Ah, dear Antony!" in tones which thrilled
the heart of the old lay-sister.

"Come hither, Antony," she said; and even as she said it, moved to meet
her.

A few simple instructions she gave, concerning matters in the Refectory
and kitchen. Then said: "Now I must go. The nuns wait."

Then of a sudden she put her arms about the old lay-sister.

"Good-bye, my Antony," she said. "Thy love and devotion have been very
precious to me. The Presence of the Lord abide with thee in blessing,
while we are gone."

And, stooping, she kissed her gently on the brow; then passed from the
cell.

Mary Antony stood as one that dreamed.

It was so many years since any touch of tenderness had reached her.

And now--those gracious arms around her; those serene eyes looking upon
her with love in their regard, and a something more, which her old
heart failed to fathom; those lips, whose every word of command she and
the whole Community hastened to obey, leaving a kiss upon her brow!

Long after the White Ladies had formed into procession and left the
cloisters, Mary Antony stood as one that dreamed. Then, remembering
her duties, she hurried to the cloisters, but found them empty; down
the steps to