some of the company, for indeed men's tastes are different and are
pleased in different ways.

As the Shipman finished, Harry Bailey's blustering manner changed.
Courteously and meekly he rode up to the Prioress, and in his
politest voice addressed her.

"My Lady Prioress, if you please, and if you are sure it will not
grieve you, I would propose that you tell a tale next. Will you deign
to do so, lady dear?" "Gladly," she answered.

She was a pleasant figure to look upon. Her wimple was snow-white,
and her black cloak fell in graceful folds from her shoulders, while
now and then her red coral rosary, with its green gaudies, showed as
she moved the arm on which it hung. Her features were very beautiful,
with a straight sensitive nose, clear grey eyes, and a full small
mouth. She told her tale in a cultured voice, which pleased us all
greatly. This was her tale:




THE PRIORESS'S TALE OF A LITTLE CHRISTIAN MARTYR

O Lord, our Lord, Thy marvellous name resounds
Through all the earth. To Thee do children cry
"Hosanna to the King of kings!" E'en I
Will add my voice in honour of the Maid,
That Lily Flower, Thy Mother, loved of Thee.
Grant me Thy grace and pity, deign to hear