er story.

"You know," she saith, "it is this year forty-seven years since Annora
and I were professed. And wherefore we were so used, mere babes as we
were, knew I never."

"Then that I can tell thee," I made answer, "for it was Queen Isabel
that thrust us in hither. Our father did somewhat to her misliking,
what indeed I know not: and she pounced on us, poor little maids, and
made us to suffer for his deed."

"Was that how it was done?" said Margaret. "Then may God pardon her
more readily than I have done! For long years I hated with all the
force of my soul him or her that had been the cause thereof. It is past
now. The priests say that man sinneth when, having no call of God, he
shall take cowl upon him. What then of those which thrust it on him,
whether he will or no? I never chose this habit. For years I hated it
as fervently as it lay in me to hate. Had the choice been given me, any
moment of those years, I would have gone back to the world that instant.
The world!" Her voice changed suddenly. "What is the world? It is
the enemy of God: true. But will bolts and bars, walls and gates, keep
it out? Is it a thing to be found in one city, which man can escape by
journeying to another? Is it not rather in his own bosom, and ever with
him? They say much of carnal affections that are evil, and creep not
into religious houses. As if man should essay to keep Satan and his
angels out of his house by painting God's name over the door! But all
love, of whatsoever sort, say they, is a filthiness of the flesh. Ah
me! how about the filthiness of the spirit? Is there no pride and
jealousy in a religious house? no strife and envying? no murmuring and
rebellion of heart? And are these fairer things in God's sight than the
natural love of our own blood? Doth He call us to give up that, and not
these? May it not be rather that if there were more true love, there
were less envy and jealousy? if there were more harmless liberty, there
were less murmuring? When man takes God's scourge into his hands, it
seems to me he is apt to wield it ill."

"But, Margaret!" said I, "so shouldst thou make Satan cast out Satan.
Forbidden love were as ill as strife and murmuring."

"Forbidden of whom?" saith she. "God never forbade me to love my
brethren and sisters. He told me to do it. He never forbade me to
honour my father and mother--to dwell with them, to tend and cherish
them in their old age. He told me to do i