The little procession of acolytes, preceding the tall tonsured figure of the Prior of Twickenham, came into the Sanctuary, and Frances sank upon her knees on the red velvet cushion before the steps.
And it was only a few moments later, when the customary prayers had been recited, that she felt a pull at the back of her dress, and heard the ubiquitous voice of Mrs. Mulholland behind her.
“Sit down, sit down. He’s going to give the address now.”
Frances sat down, and Mrs. Mulholland leant forward at an angle that suffused her large old face with crimson, and arranged the train of her dress under the chair.
Father Anselm’s address was very short and simple. There was much that was practical in it, and Frances felt vaguely relieved that it should contain no mystical allusions that might vex or distress Rosamund. This our sister, said the Prior, was about to take a step which, though to the outward eye might seem more striking, with its symbolical dress, than the more simple ceremony of a Profession, was nevertheless only a preliminary step. The goal of our sister’s religious life was still before her—those vows which should bind her irrevocably to the life to which she had been called.
Poverty, Chastity, Obedience. The vow of Poverty, which would not only mean the relinquishment of worldly goods and possessions, but also that poverty of spirit which should claim no rights and no belongings in this world, not even the rights of personal judgment, the disposal of self.... Then the vow of Chastity, which would discipline our sister’s earthly affections, rendering them indeed not less ardent, but more supernatural—a wide and universal charity which should include all ... our sister had given up her earthly family ties: good and sacred as they were, the relinquishment of them was better still—but her family now would be the poor, the sick, the friendless—in all and each she would see and love God Himself. Finally, the vow of Obedience. Our sister would see the Will of God in the will of her Superior, and would gladly submit to it in greater as in smaller things. In the Order which our sister had joined, a nun might be sent at a moment’s notice to some far-off country, there to live and work and perhaps die, with no return to the land of her birth. But her home was not here—it was in the Heaven, towards which every step of the way was leading her ... where, as the Scriptures themselves had promised, she would receive again a hundredfold all that she had given up for Christ’s sake.
The Prior’s voice ceased, and he turned again towards the Altar.
The time had come for Frances to reply to the few formal questions that would be put to her. She did so quite steadily, although her voice sounded strange in her own ears.
Then the habit which she was shortly to don was blessed, and Prior Anselm fumbled with the scissors and somehow cut from her head the symbolical lock of hair.
Mère Thérèse held back her veil as he did so, but Frances was conscious of Mrs. Mulholland hovering over her officiously.