f the world. But God sent me to the
world: and man--or rather woman--thrust me against my will into this
Sisterhood.

"Not a bit better than Lot's wife!" says Mother Ada. "She was struck to
a pillar of salt for looking back, and so shalt thou be, Sister Annora,
with thy worldly fancies and carnal longings."

Well, if I were, I am not sure I should feel much different. Sometimes
I seem to myself to be hardening into stone, body and soul. Soul! ah,
that is the worst of it.

Now and then, in the dead of night, when I lie awake--and for an hour or
more after lauds, I can seldom sleep--one awful thought harrieth and
weareth me, at times almost to madness. I never knew till a year ago,
when I heard the Lord Prior speaking to Mother Gaillarde thereanent,
that holy Church held the contract of marriage for the true canonical
tie. And if it be thus, and we were never divorced--and I never heard
word thereof--what then? Am I his true wife--I, not she? Is he happy
with her? Who is she, and what is she? Doth she care for him, and make
him her first thought, and give all her heart to him, as I would have
done, if--

How the convent bell startled me! Miserable me! I am vowed to God, and
I am His for ever. But the vow that came first, if it were never
undone--_Mater purissima, Sancta Virgo virginum, ora pro me_!

Is there some tale, some sad, strange story, lying behind those dark
eyes, in that shut-up heart of my sister Margaret? Not like mine; she
was never betrothed. But her eyes seem to me to tell a story.

Margaret never speaks to me, unless I do it first: and I dare not,
except about some work, when Mother Gaillarde or Mother Ada is present.
Yet once or twice I have caught those dark eyes scanning my face, with a
wistful look. Maybe she too is trying to crush down her heart, as I
have done. But I cannot help thinking that the heart behind those eyes
will take a great deal of crushing.

Mother Alianora is so different from the two I named just now, I am sure
there is not a better nor holier woman in all the Order. But she is
always gentle and tender; never cold like Mother Ada, nor hard and
sarcastic like Mother Gaillarde. I am glad my Lady Prioress rules with
an easy hand--("sadly too slack!" saith Mother Gaillarde)--so that dear
Mother Alianora doth not get chidden for what is the best part of her.
I should not be afraid of speaking to Margaret if only she were present
of our superiors.

At recreatio