Leniency or sympathy, at that moment, would have been fatal and foolish; and had not the Prioress made special petition for wisdom?
She was seated at her table, when Sister Seraphine bumped and shuffled into view.

She did not raise her eyes from the illuminated missal she was studying.

One hand lay on the massive clasp, the other rested in readiness to turn the page.

Her noble form seemed stately calm personified.
When she heard Sister Seraphine panting close to her foot, she spoke; still without lifting her eyes.
"You may rise to your feet," she said, "and shut to the door." Then the waiting hand turned the page, and silence fell.
"You may arrange the disorder of your dress," said the Prioress, and turned another page.
When at length she looked up, Sister Seraphine, clothed and apparently in her right mind, stood humbly near the door.
The Prioress closed the book, and shut the heavy clasps.
Then she pointed to an oaken stool, signing to the nun to draw it forward.
"Be seated, my child," she said, in tones of infinite tenderness.
"There is much which must now be said, and your mind will pay better heed, if your body be at rest." With her steadfast eyes the Prioress searched the pretty, flushed face, swollen with weeping, and now gathering a look of petulant defiance, thinly veiled beneath surface humility.
"What was the cause of this outburst, my child ?" asked the Prioress, very gently.
"While in the Cathedral, Reverend Mother, up in our gallery, I, being placed not far from a window, heard, in a moment of silence, the neighing of a horse in the street without.

It was like to the neighing of mine own lovely palfrey, waiting in the castle court at home, until I should come down and mount him.