To another than the Abbess it might have appeared that her discourse had fallen on deaf ears, or at the least on ears for the moment closed to external sounds, since no reply followed on her words. You might have said, watching the Cardinal’s face, that his wits had gone a-wool-gathering. Not so the Abbess. Perfectly serene she awaited the response she knew would come. Quiet reigned throughout the place; within the room entire, without broken only by an occasional footfall in the passage, by the faint jingle of beads as they swayed at the waist of some passing nun, or the liquid note of pigeons from the roof of the Minster. Presently the Cardinal roused himself. “Well, well,” he said smiling, “send the child to me.” * * * * * Brigid entering anon saw a small tired-looking old man sitting in a chair, his face towards the window. On her entrance he turned, and she saw no fatigue in the blue eyes. Kneeling she kissed his hand. He murmured words of blessing. Then— “Be seated, child,” he said. He shifted his position, looked more directly at her. “So thou hast left the Lady Isabel?” “Aye, my Lord.” “And for what reason?” “Sir, she desired my services no longer.” Here was the same reply she had given to her aunt the Abbess. The Cardinal put his hand up to his chin, looked at her very shrewdly. “And perchance thou no longer desirest to serve her?” Here was a bow drawn at a venture, but the shaft shot very near the mark. “My Lord—” stammered Brigid reddening. “Suppose I hear the tale, my child.” “It is not wholly mine, my Lord.” The Cardinal smiled. “Well, we will leave it. The matter to my seeing stands thus. Thou hast displeased her, and thou art not wholly pleased with her.” “My Lord, I am very ill-pleased with her.” He laughed. “At least thou art candid, child. Now tell me truly, was there aught of pique in thy leaving the Castle.” “None, my Lord.” The reply was ready enough. “I saw that she would not have me see, I heard that she would not have me hear. For that she liked me not, nor truly did I like her. I can no longer give her my service whole-heartedly, nor does she desire what lesser service I might give her. Therefore am I here.” Again the reply she had given the Abbess, yet this time going further. “Ah!” The fragile old hand beat lightly on the arm of the chair. “And here thou desirest to be a nun.” “That is my desire.” “A sudden desire, child.” “Sir,” said Brigid very low and earnest, “may not Our Lord speak suddenly an’ He will?” “Very true,” replied the Cardinal, “an’ it be indeed His voice and not thy own heart speaking.” Brigid remained silent. The Cardinal bent kindly eyes towards her, read clearly resolve in the small square face. Musing, he shifted ground. “Nuns pray much,” he said warningly. “Thy aunt hath told me that on former occasions when thou hast visited the Minster prayer was none so greatly to thy liking.”