“Sister Annora,” said she, with one of her grim smiles, “I always looked to see you turn out a reformer.”
“Me!” cried I.
“You,” said she.
“But a reformer is a great, grand man, with a hard head, and a keen wit, and a ready tongue!” said I.
“Why should it not be a woman with a soft heart?” quoth Sister Gaillarde.
“Ha, jolife!” cried I. “Sister Gaillarde, you may be cut out for a reformer, but I am sure I am not.”
I looked up as I spoke, and saw the Lady Joan’s dark grey eyes upon me.
“What is to be reformed. Mother?” said she.
“Why, if each of us would reform herself, I suppose the whole house would be reformed,” I answered.
“Capital!” said Sister Gaillarde. “Let’s set to work.”