Sister Mary Rebecca who daily grows more crooked, both in mind
and body; yet who ever sweetly smileth.

"Now will I show thee, if so be that I can find her, Sister Teresa, a
kindly soul and gracious, but with a sniff which may be heard in the
kitchens when that holy Lady taketh her turn at the Refectory reading.
And when, the reading over, having sniffed every other minute, she at
length, feels free to blow, beshrew me, Master Redbreast, one might
think our old dun cow had just been parted from a newly-born calf.
Yea, a kind, gracious soul; but noisy about the nose, and forgetful of
the ears of other people, her own necessity seeming excuse enough for
veritable trumpet blasts."

Mary Antony, half turning as she talked, peered into the open bag in
search of Sister Teresa.

Then, quick as thought, the unexpected happened.

Three rapid hops, a jerky bend of the red breast, a flash of wings----

The robin had flown off with the white pea! The shrivelled and the
speckled alone remained upon the seat.

Uttering a cry of horror and dismay, the old lay-sister fell upon her
knees, lifting despairing hands to trees and sky.

Down by the lower wall, in earnest meditation, the Prioress moved back
and forth, on the Cypress Walk.

Mary Antony's shriek of dismay, faint but unmistakable, reached her
ears. Turning, she passed noiselessly up the green sward, on the
further side of the yew hedge; but paused, in surprise, as she drew
level with the beech; for the old lay-sister's voice penetrated the
hedge, and the first words she overheard seemed to the Prioress wholly
incomprehensible.

"Ah, thou Knight of the Bloody Vest!" moaned Mary Antony. "Heaven send
thy wicked perfidy may fall on thine own pate! Intruding thyself into
our most private places; begging food, which could not be refused;
wheedling old Mary Antony into letting thee have a peep at the holy
Ladies--thou bold, bad man!--and then carrying off the Reverend Mother,
Herself! Ha! Hadst thou but caught away Mother Sub-Prioress, she
would have reformed thy home, whipped thy children, and mended thine
own vile manners, thou graceless churl! Or hadst thou taken Sister
Mary Rebecca, _she_ would have brought the place about thine ears,
telling thy wife fine tales of thine unfaithfulness; whispering that
Mary Antony is younger and fairer than she. But, nay, forsooth!
Neither of these will do! Thou must needs snatch away the Reverend
Mother, Herself! Oh, sacrile