The minute our tongues were loosed, Sister Ada attacked Sister Gaillarde as to what my Lady wanted with her. With one of her grim smiles, Sister Gaillarde replied—
“My Lady is about to resign her office.”
A storm of exclamations greeted the news.
“Why, Sister? Do tell us why.”
“She finds,” said Sister Gaillarde, gravely, “the burden of her official duties too heavy.”
“I marvel what she reckons them to be!” quoth Sister Joan, who, though not sarcastic in the style of Sister Gaillarde, can now and then say a biting thing. “So far as I ever made out, her duties are to sit on cushions and bid other folks work.”
“Exactly: and that is too much labour for her.”
“Which of us will be chosen in her stead, I marvel!” said Sister Ada, briskly. “I trust it may be one who will look better to her house than the present Lady has done.”
“Amen,” said Sister Gaillarde, with a mischievous air. “I hope it will be Sister Joan.”
“Truly, I hope not,” answered the Sister: “for if any such honour came my way (which I expect not), I should feel it my duty to decline it on account of my failing sight.”