It mattered little, then; but has now become a thing of extreme importance.
"On that morning, finding the old lay-sister knew more than any supposed, and was wholly devoted to the Prioress, I had chanced to remark to her as I rode out of the courtyard that the Reverend Mother would thrust happiness from her with both hands unless our Lady herself offered it, by vision or revelation.
"Whereupon, my dear Knight, that faithful old heart using wits she had prayed our Lady to sharpen, contrived a vision of her own devising, so wondrously contrived, so excellently devised, that Mora--not dreaming of old Antony's secret knowledge--could not fail to believe it true.
In fact, my son, you may praise heaven for an old woman's wits, for, as you will doubtless some day hear from Mora herself, they gave you your wife! "But beware lest any chance words of yours lead Mora to suspect the genuineness of the vision.

It would cost HER her peace of mind.

It might cost YOU her presence.
"Meanwhile the aged lay-sister died yesterday, after having mystified the entire Community by locking herself into the Prioress's cell, and remaining there, from the time she found it empty when the nuns returned from Vespers, until I arrived on the following afternoon.

She thus prevented any questionings concerning Mora's flight, and averted possible scandal.

But the twenty-four hours without food or drink cost the old woman her life.