"Lo I am with you always, even unto the end of the world." Strong in this most human vision of the Divine, she had come down from the Holy Mount, prepared to face the dumb demon she dreaded, the silent acquiescence in deception, which threatened to tear her happiness, bruise her spirit, and cast into the fire and into the waters to destroy them, those treasures which her heart had lately learned to hold so dear.
Prepared for this, she came; and lo, Heaven granted her the second vision.

She saw deep into the heart of a true man's faithfulness; an example of chivalry, of profound reverence for holy things, which shamed her doubts of him; a self-sacrifice which lifted the great human love, to which she, in her cloistered sanctity, had pictured herself as stooping, far above her, to the ideal of the divine.

Was not this indeed a Vision of Truth?
Crossing the room, Mora laid the robes she carried upon the couch.
While mounting the stairs she had planned, in the secret of her own chamber, to clothe herself in them once again, to hang her jewelled cross about her neck, and thus--once more Prioress of the White Ladies--to kneel at our Lady's shrine, and implore guidance in this final decision.

But now, she laid them gently down upon the bed.
She could not stand fast in this new liberty, with the heavy folds of that white habit entangling her feet in a yoke of bondage.
The heart, filled with a love so full of glowing tenderness for her Knight of the Silver Shield proved worthy, could not beat beneath a scapulary.

Nor could her cross of office lie where his dear head had rested.
She stood before the shrine.