"You must have voted for yourself, then: you can't know otherwise," said Sister Philippa, scornfully. Sister Roberga fairly screamed, "I didn't, you vile wretch!" and went exceedingly red in the face. "Sister Roberga," said I-- "Don't you interfere!" shrieked Sister Roberga, turning fiercely on me. "You want a chance to show your power, of course. You poor, white-faced, sanctimonious creature, only just promoted, and that because every body voted for you, thinking you would be easily managed-- just like a bit of putty in any body's fingers! And making such a fuss, as if you were so humble and holy, professing not to wish for it! Faugh! how I hate a hypocrite!" I stood silent, feeling as if my breath were taken away. "Yes, isn't she?" cried Sister Philippa. "Wanting Sister Ismania to be preferred, instead of her, after all her plotting with Mother Gaillarde and Sister Margaret! I can't bear folks who look one way and walk another, as she does. _I_ shouldn't wonder if the election were vitiated,--not a bit!--and then where will you be, _Mother_ Annora?" "Where you will be, Sister Philippa, until compline," said a voice behind me, "is prostrate on the chapel floor: and after compline, you will kiss the floor at Mother Annora's feet, and ask her to forgive you. Sister Roberta, go to the laundry--there is nobody there--and do not come forth till I fetch you. You also, after compline, will ask the Mother's forgiveness." Oh, how thankful I felt to Mother Gaillarde for coming in just then! She said no more at that time; but at night she came to my cell. "Sister Annora," said she, "you must not let those saucy girls ride rough-shod over you. You should let them see you mean it." "But," said I, "I am afraid I don't mean it." Mother Gaillarde laughed. "Then make haste and do," said she. "You'll have a bear-garden in the work-room if you don't pull your curb a little tighter. You may always rely on Sister Ismania, Sister Isabel, and Sister Margaret to uphold your authority. It is those silly young things that have to be kept in order. I wish you joy of your new post: it is not all flowers and music, I can tell you." "Oh dear, I feel so unfit for it!" I sighed. Mother Gaillarde smiled. "Sister, I am a bad hand at paying compliments," she said. "But one thing I will say--you are the fittest of us all for the office, if you will only stand firm. Give your orders promptly, and stick to them. _Pax tibi_!" I have put Mother Gaillarde's advice into action--or rather, I have tried to put it--and have brought a storm on my head. Oh dear, why cannot folks do right without all this trouble?