“Half a firkin came in last week,” responded Sister Ada. “You forget, Sister Gaillarde, the rule forbids us to ask more than once for anything.”
“The rule should forbid Prioresses to have short memories, then. Come, Sister Annot, leave that minikin fiddle-faddle, and come and help with the real work. If it is to be done by vespers, we want all the hands we can get. I will fetch Sister Margaret to it; she always puts her heart into what she has to do. Well, you look sorely disappointed, child: I am sorry for it, but I cannot help it. I have no fancy for such vanities, but I dare say you like better sticking bits of gold leaf upon vellum than scrubbing and sweeping.”
“Sister Annot, I am ashamed of you!” said Sister Ada. “Your perfection must be very incomplete, if you can look disappointed on receiving an order from your superior. You ought to rejoice at such an opportunity of mortifying your will.”
“That’s more than I’ve done,” said Sister Gaillarde. “Well, Sister Ada, as you don’t offer to move, I suppose we had better leave you here till you have finished rejoicing over the opportunity. I hope you’ll get done in time to take advantage of it. Come, Sister Annot.”
I thought I had better follow. So, having given Joan a few directions to enable her to go on for a time without superintendence, I went to see after the water-bougets, which should have been Sister Ada’s work. She called after me—“Sister Annora, I’ll follow you in a moment. I have not quite finished my rosary.”
I left her there, telling her last few beads, and went to fetch the bougets, which I carried to the chapel, just as Sister Gaillarde came in with her arms full, followed by Margaret and Annot.
“I’ve found two mops!” she cried. “Mine was all right, but where Sister Ada keeps hers I cannot tell. Howbeit, Sister Joan has one. Now, Sister Annora, if you will bring yours—And see here, these brushes have a few bristles left—this is a poor set-out, though. It’ll do to knock off spiders. Now, Sister Margaret, fetch that long ladder by the garden door. Sister Annot, you had better go up,—you are the lightest of us, and I am not altogether clear about that ladder, but it is the only one we have. Well-a-day! if I were Pr— Catch hold of Saint James by the head, Sister Annot, to steady yourself. Puff! faugh! what a dust!”
We were all over dust in a few minutes. I should think it was months since it had been disturbed, for my Lady never would order the chapel to be cleaned. We worked away with a will, and got things in order for vespers. Sister Annot just escaped a bad fall, for a rung of the ladder gave way, and if she had not clutched Saint Peter by the arm, down she would have come. Howbeit, Saint Peter held, happily, and she escaped with a bruise.
Just as things were getting into order, and we had finished all the dirty work, Sister Ada sauntered in.
“Well, really,” said Sister Gaillarde, “I did not believe you could truly rejoice in the mortification of your will till I saw how long it took you! Thank you, the mortification is done; you will have to wait till next time: I only hope you will let this rejoicing count. There’s nothing left for you, but to empty the slops and wipe out the pails.”