She took it from him reverently, to lay it beside the other, and as her face was too proud for fear so was it too tender for jesting. “I am more honored,” she told him, “than Canute by his crown; and I will live as bravely to defend them.” But as he would have caught her to him, she leaned back suddenly to stretch a hand toward a dark-robed figure standing under the moss-grown arch, and her pride melted into a laugh of breathless happiness. “Sister Wynfreda, you were very right,” she called softly, “the world can be so beautiful that one has no hunger for heaven.”