Her brave heart hath done wonders this day.

It is for us to see that her body doth not pay the penalty.

Here! Take her rein, and go." Mary Mark looked out through the wicket, in response to a knocking on the door.

She gasped when she saw the Lord Bishop, on foot, without the gate.
Quickly she opened, wide, and wider; hiding her buxom form behind the door.
But the Bishop had no thought for Mary Mark, nor inclination to play hide-and-seek with a conscience-stricken porteress.
Avoiding the front entrance, he crossed the courtyard to the right, passed beneath the rose-arch, along the yew walk, and over the lawn, to the seat under the beech, where two days before he had awaited the coming of the Prioress.
Here he paused for a moment, looking toward the silent cloisters, and picturing her tall figure, her flowing veil and stately tread, advancing toward him over the sunny lawn.
Yet no.

Even in these surroundings he could not see her now as Prioress.