he dark,
the fair; the grave, the gay. Wherefore my stern Crusader may be
breaking his heart for your foolish little bird."

"I do not think so," said the Prioress, shortly; then hastened to add:
"Not that I would presume to differ from you, Reverend Father.
Doubtless you are better versed in such matters than I. But--if it be
as you suppose--what measures do you suggest? How am I to deal with
Sister Mary Seraphine?"

The Bishop leaned forward and whispered, though not another soul was
within hearing; but at this juncture in the conversation, a whisper was
both dramatic and effective. Also, when he leaned forward, he could
almost hear the angry beating of the heart of the Prioress.

The Bishop held the Prioress in high regard, and loved not to distress
her. But he did not think it right that a woman should have such
complete mastery over herself, and therefore over others. A fine
quality in a man, may be a blemish in a woman. For which reason the
Bishop leaned forward and whispered.

"Let her fly, my daughter; let her fly. If his arms await her, she
will not have far to go, nor many dangers to face. Her lover will know
how to guard his own."

"My lord," said the Prioress, now flushed with anger, "you amaze me!
Am I to understand that you would have me open the Convent door, so
that a renegade nun may escape to her lover? Or perhaps, my lord, it
would better meet your ideas if I bid the porteress stand wide the
great gates, so that this high-spirited Knight may ride in and carry
off the nun he desires, in sight of all! My Lord Bishop! You rule in
Worcester and in the cities of the diocese. But _I_ rule in this
Nunnery; and while I rule here, such a thing as this shall never be."

The Prioress flashed and quivered; rose to her feet and towered; flung
her arms wide, and paced the floor.

"The Knight has bewitched you, my lord," she said. "You forget the
rules of our holy Church. You fail in your trust toward the women who
look to you as their spiritual Father and guide."

The Prioress walked up and down the cell, and each time she passed her
chair she wheeled, and gripping the back with her strong fingers, shook
it. Not being able to shake the Bishop, she needs must shake something.

"You amaze me!" she said. "Truly, my lord, you amaze me!"

The Bishop put on his biretta.

Only once before, in his eventful life, had he made a woman as angry as
this. Very young he was, then; and the angry woma