Do I speak truly ?" 'The sobs of the two sisters were their only reply.
'"There is little need," said the monk, with a meaning look, "to fritter away the time in gewgaws which shall raise up the pale ghosts of hopes of early years.

Bury them, heap penance and mortification on their heads, keep them down, and let the convent be their grave!" 'The sisters asked for three days to deliberate; and felt, that night, as though the veil were indeed the fitting shroud for their dead joys.
But, morning came again, and though the boughs of the orchard trees drooped and ran wild upon the ground, it was the same orchard still.

The grass was coarse and high, but there was yet the spot on which they had so often sat together, when change and sorrow were but names.

There was every walk and nook which Alice had made glad; and in the minster nave was one flat stone beneath which she slept in peace.
'And could they, remembering how her young heart had sickened at the thought of cloistered walls, look upon her grave, in garbs which would chill the very ashes within it?
Could they bow down in prayer, and when all Heaven turned to hear them, bring the dark shade of sadness on one angel's face?
No.
'They sent abroad, to artists of great celebrity in those times, and having obtained the church's sanction to their work of piety, caused to be executed, in five large compartments of richly stained glass, a faithful copy of their old embroidery work.

These were fitted into a large window until that time bare of ornament; and when the sun shone brightly, as she had so well loved to see it, the familiar patterns were reflected in their original colours, and throwing a stream of brilliant light upon the pavement, fell warmly on the name of Alice.
'For many hours in every day, the sisters paced slowly up and down the nave, or knelt by the side of the flat broad stone.