other's tone was belied by the merriment in her grey eyes.

"So no more of that, my Antony; though, truth to tell, thy story gives
me relief, answering a question I was meaning to put to thee. I heard,
not an hour ago, that Sister Antony had boasted that with a turn of her
thumb and finger she could, any night, send Mother Sub-Prioress to
Purgatory."

"Who said that of me?" stuttered Mary Antony. "Who said it, Reverend
Mother?"

"A little bird," murmured the Prioress. "A little bird, dear Antony;
but not thy pretty robin. Also, the boast was taken to mean poison in
the broth of Mother Sub-Prioress. Hast thou ever put harmful things in
the broth of Mother Sub-Prioress?"

Mary Antony slipped to her knees.

"Only beans, Reverend Mother, castor beans; and, when her temper was
vilest, purging herbs. Nothing more, I swear it! Old Antony knows
naught of poisons; only of mixing balsams--ah, ha!--and soothing
ointments! Our blessed Lady knows the tale is false."

Hastily the Prioress lifted the nosegay and buried her face in bindweed
and dandelions.

"I believe thee," she said, in a voice not over steady. "Rise from thy
knees. But, remember, I forbid thee to put aught into Mother
Sub-Prioress's broth, save things that soothe and comfort. Give me
thy word for this, Antony."

The old woman humbly lifted the hem of the Prioress's robe, and pressed
it to her lips.

"I promise, Reverend Mother," she said, "and I do repent me of my sin."

"Sit beside me," commanded the Prioress. "I have more to say to
thee. . . . Think not hard thoughts of the Sub-Prioress. She is
stern, and extreme to mark what is done amiss, but this she conceives
to be her duty. She is a most pious Lady. Her zeal is but a sign of
her piety."

Mary Antony's keen eyes, meeting those of the Prioress, twinkled.

Once again the Prioress took refuge in the posy. She was beginning to
have had enough of the scent of dandelions.

"Mother Sub-Prioress is sick," she said. "The cold struck her last
evening, after sunset, in the orchard. I have bidden her to keep her
bed awhile. We must tend her kindly, Antony, and help her back to
health again.

"Sister Mary Rebecca is also sick, with pains in her bones and slight
fever. She too keeps her bed to-day. Strive to feel kindly toward
her, Antony. I know she oft thinks evil where none was meant, telling
tales of wrong which are mostly of her own imagining. But, in so
doing, she harms herse