and warbles a love-song to his mate."

The Prioress rose and stretched wide her arms to the sunlit garden, to
the bough where the robin sang.

"Oh, to be one with God and with Nature!" she cried. "Oh, to know the
essential mysteries of Life and Light and Love! This is Life Eternal!"

She had forgotten the old lay-sister; aye, for the moment she had
forgotten the Convent and the cloister, the mile-long walk in darkness,
the chant of the unseen monks. She trod again the springy heather of
her youth; she heard the rush of the mountain stream; the sigh of the
great forest; the rustle of the sunlit glades, alive with, life. These
all were in the robin's song. Then----

Within the Convent, the Refectory bell clanged loudly.

The Prioress let fall her arms.

She picked up the nosegay of weeds.

"Come, Antony," she said, "let us go and discover whether Sister Mary
Augustine hath contrived to make the pasties light and savoury, even
without the aid of the advice she might have had from thee."

Old Mary Antony, gleeful and marvelling, followed the stately figure of
the Prioress. Never was shriven soul more blissfully at peace. She
had kept back nothing; yet the Reverend Mother had imposed no
punishment, had merely asked a promise which, in the fulness of her
gratitude, Mary Antony had found it easy to give.