golden stair
together. . . .

Hush! . . . "So He giveth His beloved sleep."

* * * * * *

The Bishop had but just returned from laying to rest, in the
burying-ground of the Convent, the worn-out body of the aged lay-sister.

When he had signified that he intended himself to perform the last
rites, Mother Sub-Prioress had ventured upon amazed expostulation.

Such an honour had never, in the history of the Community, been
accorded even to the Canonesses, much less to a lay-sister. Surely
Father Peter--or the Prior? Had it been the Prioress herself, why
then----

Few can remember the petrifying effect of a flash of sudden anger in
the kindly eyes of Symon of Worcester. Mother Sub-Prioress will never
forget it.

So, with as much pomp and circumstance as if she had been Prioress of
the White Ladies, old Mary Antony's humble remains were laid in that
plot in the Convent burying-ground which she had chosen for herself,
half a century before.

Much sorrow was shewn, by the entire Community. The great loss they
had sustained by the mysterious passing of the Prioress from their
midst, weighed heavily upon them; and seemed, in some way which they
could not fathom, to be connected with the death of the old lay-sister.

As the solemn procession slowly wended its way from the Chapel, along
the Cypress Walk, and so, across the orchard, to the burying-ground,
the tears which ran down the chastened faces of the nuns, were as much
a tribute of love to their late Prioress, as a sign of sorrow for the
loss of Mary Antony. The little company of lay-sisters sobbed without
restraint. Sister Abigail, so often called "noisy hussy" by old
Antony, fully, on this final occasion, justified the name.

As the procession was re-forming to leave the grave, Sister Mary
Seraphine felt that the moment had now arrived, old Antony being
disposed of, when she might suitably become the centre of attention,
and be carried, on the return journey. She therefore fell prone upon
the ground, in a fainting fit.

The Bishop, his chaplain, the priests and acolytes, paused uncertain
what to do.

Sister Teresa, and other nuns, would have hastened to raise her, but
the command of Mother Sub-Prioress rang sharp and clear.

"Let her lie! If she choose to remain with the Dead, it is but small
loss to the Living."

And with hands devoutly crossed upon her breast, ferret face peering to
right and left from out the cur