then I understood that we were in
heaven, and that it was all over; and I burst out into tears in my stall
for happiness; and then I awoke and found myself in bed; but my cheeks
were really wet.--Well, well, perhaps, by the mercy of God it may all
come true some day."

She spoke so simply that Mary Corbet was amazed; she had always fancied
that the Religious Life was a bitter struggle, worth, indeed, living for
those who could bear it, for the sake of the eternal reward; but it had
scarcely even occurred to her that it was so full of joy in itself; and
she looked up under her brows at the old lady, whose needle had stopped
for a moment.

A moment after and Lady Maxwell appeared coming down the steps into the
garden; and at her side Anthony, who was dressed ready for riding.

Old Mistress Margaret had, as she said, been watching Mary Corbet those
last few weeks; and had determined to speak to her plainly. Her instinct
had told her that beneath this flippancy and glitter there was something
that would respond; and she was anxious to leave nothing undone by which
Mary might be awakened to the inner world that was in such danger of
extinction in her soul. It cost the old lady a great effort to break
through her ordinary reserve, but she judged that Mary could only be
reached on her human side, and that there were not many of her friends
whose human sympathy would draw her in the right direction. It is
strange, sometimes, to find that some silent old lady has a power for
sounding human character, which far shrewder persons lack; and this quiet
old nun, so ignorant, one would have said, of the world and of the
motives from which ordinary people act, had managed somehow to touch
springs in this girl's heart that had never been reached before.

And now as Miss Corbet and Lady Maxwell talked, and Anthony lolled
embarrassed beside them, attempting now and then to join in the
conversation, Mistress Margaret, as she sat a little apart and worked
away at the panting stag dreamed away, smiling quietly to herself, of all
the old scenes that her own conversation had called up into clearer
consciousness; of the pleasant little meadow of the Sussex priory, with
the old apple-trees and the straight box-lined path called the nun's walk
from time immemorial; all lighted with the pleasant afternoon glow, as it
streamed from the west, throwing the slender poplar shadows across the
grass; and of the quiet chatter of the brook as it over-fl