.

.

"So He giveth His beloved sleep." * * * * * * The Bishop had but just returned from laying to rest, in the burying-ground of the Convent, the worn-out body of the aged lay-sister.
When he had signified that he intended himself to perform the last rites, Mother Sub-Prioress had ventured upon amazed expostulation.
Such an honour had never, in the history of the Community, been accorded even to the Canonesses, much less to a lay-sister.

Surely Father Peter--or the Prior?
Had it been the Prioress herself, why then---- Few can remember the petrifying effect of a flash of sudden anger in the kindly eyes of Symon of Worcester.

Mother Sub-Prioress will never forget it.
So, with as much pomp and circumstance as if she had been Prioress of the White Ladies, old Mary Antony's humble remains were laid in that plot in the Convent burying-ground which she had chosen for herself, half a century before.
Much sorrow was shewn, by the entire Community.