Hast thou ever put harmful things in the broth of Mother Sub-Prioress ?" Mary Antony slipped to her knees.
"Only beans, Reverend Mother, castor beans; and, when her temper was vilest, purging herbs.

Nothing more, I swear it! Old Antony knows naught of poisons; only of mixing balsams--ah, ha!--and soothing ointments! Our blessed Lady knows the tale is false." Hastily the Prioress lifted the nosegay and buried her face in bindweed and dandelions.
"I believe thee," she said, in a voice not over steady.

"Rise from thy knees.

But, remember, I forbid thee to put aught into Mother Sub-Prioress's broth, save things that soothe and comfort.

Give me thy word for this, Antony." The old woman humbly lifted the hem of the Prioress's robe, and pressed it to her lips.
"I promise, Reverend Mother," she said, "and I do repent me of my sin." "Sit beside me," commanded the Prioress.