She had no wish to see the bird's enjoyment.
Then a strange thing happened.
Having pecked up all he wanted, the robin turned his bright eye upon the motionless figure, seated so near him, wrapped in the aloofness of an impenetrable silence.
Excepting in her dying moments, Mary Antony's much loved little bird had never adventured nearer to her than to hop along the coping, pecking at her fingers when, to test his boldness, she reached out and with them covered the cheese.
Yet now, with a gentle flick of wings, lo, he alighted on the knee of Mother Sub-Prioress! Then, while she scarce dared breathe, for wonder and amaze, hopped to her arm and pecked gently at her veil.
Whereupon something broke in the cold heart of Mother Sub-Prioress.
Tears ran slowly down the thin face.

She would not stir nor lift her hand to wipe them away, and they fell in heavy drops upon her folded fingers.
At length she spoke, in a broken whisper.
"Oh, thou little winged thing," she said, "who so easily could'st fly from me! Dost thou use those wings of liberty to draw yet nearer?
In this place of high walls and narrow cells, they who have not full freedom, use to the full what freedom they possess, to turn, at my approach and fly from me.

Not one if she could choose, would choose to come to me.

.

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