"What do you there, daughter ?" she asked, with as much asperity as she ever showed.
"In truth I know not, Mother," answered Cicely.

"Sister Bridget told us that the Lord Abbot desired our presence." "I bid her say that you were to wait him in my chamber," said the Prioress in a vexed voice.
"Well," broke in the Abbot, "it would seem that you have a fool for a messenger; if it is that pockmarked hag, her brain has been gone for years.

Ward Cicely, I greet you, though after the sorrows that have fallen on you, whereof by your leave we will not speak, since there is no use in stirring up such memories, I grieve to see you in that worldly garb, who thought you would have changed it for a better.

But ere you entered the holy Mother here spoke of some obstacle that stood between you and God.

What is it?
Perchance my counsel may be of service.