.

Now draw up that stool, and stay near me while I sup.
I am weary this night, and shall like thy company." Had the golden gates of heaven opened before her, and Saint Peter himself invited her to enter, Sister Mary Antony would not have been more astonished and certainly could hardly have been more gratified.
It was a thing undreamed of, that she should be bidden to sit with the Reverend Mother in her cell.
Drawing the carven stool two feet from the wall, Mary Antony took her seat upon it.
"Nearer, Antony, nearer," said the Prioress.

"Place the stool here, close beside the corner of my table.

I have much to say to thee, and would wish to speak low." Truly Sister Antony found herself in the seventh heaven! Yet, quietly observing, the Prioress could not fail to note the drawn weariness on the old face, the yellow pallor of the wizen skin, which usually wore the bright tint of a russet apple.
The Prioress took a portion of the broth; then pushed the bowl from her, and turned to the fruit.
"There, Antony," she said.

"The broth is excellent; but I have enough.
Finish it thyself.