Thus spoke my sister Margaret (Note 1), as she stood gazing from the window of the recreation-room, and Sister Roberga looked up and laughed.
“Nay, what next?” saith she. “Heard I ever such strange fancies as thine? Thou wilt be marvelling next if the stars be never athirst.”
“And if rain be the moon weeping,” quoth Sister Philippa, who seemed as much amused as Roberga.
“No, the moon weepeth not,” said Margaret. “She is too cold to weep. She is like Mother Ada.”
“Eh dear, what fancies hast thou!” saith Sister Roberga. “Who but thou would ever have thought of putting the moon and Mother Ada into one stall!”
“What didst thou mean, Sister Margaret?” saith the quiet voice of Mother Alianora, as she sat by the chimney corner.
Mother Alianora is our father’s sister—Margaret’s and mine; but I ought not to think of it, since a recluse should have no kindred out of her Order and the blessed saints. And there are three Sisters in the Priory named Alianora: wherefore, to make diversity, the eldest professed is called Alianora, and the second (that is myself) Annora, and the youngest, only last year professed, Nora. We had likewise in this convent an Aunt Joan, but she deceased over twenty years gone. Margaret was professed in the Order when I was, but not at this house; and she hath been transferred hither but a few weeks (Note 2), so that her mind and heart are untravelled ground to me. She was a Sister at Watton: and since I can but just remember her before our profession, it seems marvellous strange that we should now come to know one another, after nearly fifty years’ cloistered life. There is yet another Sister named Margaret, but being younger in profession we call her Sister Magota.
When Mother Alianora spoke, Margaret turned back from the window, as she ought when addressed by a superior.
“I mean, Mother, that he never hath any change of work,” she said. “Every morrow he has to rise, and every night must he set: and always the one in east and the other in west. I think he must be sore, sore weary, for he hath been at it over five thousand years.”
Sister Roberga and Sister Philippa laughed. Mother Alianora did not laugh. A soft, rather sorrowful, sort of smile came on her aged face.