hold of my cloak again. There! Now lay your hand upon my head, as you do with
the children when you wish them good luck."

Because there was nothing else to do, and because the thought of doing this
gave her some comfort, Sister Wynfreda complied. Laying her trembling hands
upon the bared black head, she raised her despairing face to heaven and prayed
with all the earnestness that was hers. Then she stood at the gate in silence
and watched the girl set forth. As Randalin turned into the sunny highway, she
looked back with a brave smile and waved her cap at the faded figure under the
arch. But the nun, left in the moss-grown garden, wrapped in the peace of the
grave, saw her through a blur of tears.

"God guard you, my fledgeling," she whispered over and over. "My prayers be as
a wall around you. My love go with you as a warm hand in your loneliness. God
keep you in safety, my most beloved daughter!"




Chapter III

Where War-dogs Kennel


Openly I now speak
Because I both sexes know:
Unstable are men's minds toward women;
'T is when we speak most fair,
When we most falsely think:
That deceives even the cautious.