ardon, Mother, but that was Judas Iscariot."

"It wasn't: it was Pontius Pilate."

"I am sure it was Judas."

"I tell you it wasn't."

"But, Mother, I--"

"Hold your tongue!" said Mother Gaillarde, curtly.

And being bidden by her superior, of course Sister Ismania had to obey.
I looked across at Margaret, and met her eyes. And, as Margaret's eyes
always do, they spoke.

"These are holy women, and this is spiritual love!" said Margaret's
eyes, ironically. "We might have spoken thus to our own brethren,
without going into a convent to do it."

I wonder if Margaret be not right, and we bring the world in with us:
that it is something inside ourselves. But then, I suppose, outside
there are more temptations. Yet do we not, each of us, make a world for
herself? Is it not _ourselves_ that we ought to renounce--the
earthliness and covetousness of our own desires, rather than the mere
outside things? Oh, I do get so tired when I keep thinking!

Yesterday, when Erneburg and Damia were playing at see-saw in the
garden, with a long plank balanced on the saddling-stone, I could not
help wondering how it is that one's thoughts play in that way. Each end
seems sometimes up, and then the other end comes up, and that goes down.
I wish I were wiser, and understood more. Perchance it was better for
me that I was sent here. For I never should have been wise or
brilliant. And suppose _he_ were, and that he had looked down upon me
and disliked me for it! That would have been harder to bear than this.

_Ha, chetife_! have all religious women such stories as we two? Did
Mother Ada ever feel a heart in her? Mother Gaillarde does at times, I
believe. As to my Lady, I doubt any such thing of her. She seems to
live but to eat and sleep, and if Mother Gaillarde had not more care to
govern the house than she, I do--Mother of Mercy, but this is evil
speaking, and of my superiors too! _Miserere me, Domine_!

As we filed out of the oratory last night as usual, Mother Gaillarde
stayed me at the door.

"Sister Annora, thou art appointed to the Infirmary to-night." And in a
lower tone she added--"It will be the last time."

I knew well what last time she meant: never again in life should I see
our dear Mother Alianora. I looked up thankfully.

"Well?" said Mother Gaillarde, in her curt way. "Are you a stone image,
or do you think I'm one?"

I kissed her hand, made the holy sign, and passed on. No, dear Mother:
thou