Nay, be not shocked, good Mother; I am no nun, and God did not create the world all female, or we should none of us be here.

But, now you speak of it, I think there's something strange about that chapel.
It is a place where some might fear to be alone, for twice when I knelt there at my prayers I have heard odd sounds, and once, when there was no sun, a cold shadow fell upon me.

Some ghost of the dead, I suppose, of whom so many lie about.

Well, ghosts I never feared; and now I must away to fetch my lady's supper, for she eats in her room to-night." When she had gone the Prioress shook her head and remarked in her gentle fashion-- "A strange woman and a rough, but, my sisters, we must not judge her harshly, for she is of a different world to ours, and I fear has met with sorrows there, such as we are protected from by our holy office." "Yes," answered the sister, "but I think also that she has met with the ghost that haunts the chapel, of which there are many records, and that once I saw myself when I was a novice.

The Prioress Matilda--I mean the fourth of that name, she who was mixed up with Edward the Lame, the monk, and died suddenly after the----" "Peace, sister; let us have no scandal about that departed--woman, who left the earth two hundred years ago.