The sun, round and blood red, as at that very moment reflected in Hugh d'Argent's shield, was just about to dip below the horizon.

When next it rose, the day would have dawned which would see her Prioress of the White Ladies of Worcester.
She turned to the place where the Prioress's chair of state stood empty.

During the walk to and from the Cathedral, she had planned to come alone to this chamber, and seat herself in the chair which would so soon be hers.

But now a new humbleness restrained her.
Falling upon her knees before the empty chair, she lifted clasped hands heavenward.
"O God," she said, "I am not worthy to take Her place.

My heart is hard and cold; my tongue is ofttimes cruel; my spirit is censorious.
But I have learned a lesson from the bird and a lesson from the Babe; and that which I know not teach Thou me.