Then, suddenly, the Prioress knelt at the feet of the Bishop.

"Forgive me, most Reverend Father," she said. "I did wrong to be
angry."

Symon of Worcester extended his hand, and the Prioress kissed the ring.
As she withdrew her lips from the precious stone, she saw it blood-red
and sparkling, as the juice of purple grapes in a goblet.

The Bishop laid his biretta once more upon the table, and smiled very
tenderly on the Prioress, as he motioned her to rise from her knees and
to resume her seat.

"You did right to be angry, my daughter," he said. "You were not angry
with me, nor with the brave Crusader, nor with the foolish Seraphine.
Your anger, all unconsciously, was aroused by a system, a method of
life which is contrary to Nature, and therefore surely at variance with
the will of God. I have long had my doubts concerning these vows of
perpetual celibacy for women. For men, it is different. The creative
powers in a man, if denied their natural functions, stir him to great
enterprise, move him to beget fine phantasies, creations of his brain,
children of his intellect. If he stamp not his image on brave sons and
fair daughters, he leaves his mark on life in many other ways, both
brave and fair. But it is not so with woman; in the very nature of
things it cannot be. Methinks these Nunneries would serve a better
purpose were they schools from which to send women forth into the world
to be good wives and mothers, rather than store-houses filled with sad
samples of Nature's great purposes deliberately unfulfilled."

The merry schoolboy look had vanished. The Bishop's eyes were stern
and searching; yet he looked not on the Prioress as he spoke.

Amazement was writ larger than ever, on her face; but she held herself
well under control.

"Such views, my lord, if freely expressed and adopted, would change the
entire monastic system."

"I know it," said the Bishop. "And I would not express them, saving to
you and to one other, to whom I also talk freely. But the older I
grow, the more clearly do I see that systems are man-made, and
therefore often mistaken, injurious, pernicious. But Nature is Divine.
Those who live in close touch with Nature, who rule their lives by
Nature's rules, do not stray far from the Divine plan of the Creator.
But when man takes upon himself to say 'Thou shalt,' or 'Thou shalt
not,' quickly confusion enters. A false premise becomes the
starting-point; and the goal, if it stop