Chapter Four.
Mother Joan.
“She hears old footsteps wandering slow
Through the lone chambers of her heart.”
Lowell.
When Guy of Ashridge was fairly gone, Philippa felt at once relieved and vexed to lose him. She had called in a new physician to prescribe for her disease; and she was sure that he had administered a harmful medicine, if he had not also given a wrong diagnosis. Instead of being better, she felt worse; and she resolved to give herself the next dose, in the form of a “retreat” into a convent, to pray and fast, and make her peace with God. Various reasons induced her to select a convent at a distance from home. After a period of indecision, she fixed upon the Abbey of Shaftesbury, and obtained the necessary permission to reside there for a time.
Lady Sergeaux arrived at Shaftesbury towards the close of August. She found the Abbess and nuns kindly-disposed towards her; and her stay was not disagreeable, except for the restless, dissatisfied feelings of her own heart. But she found that her peace was not made, for all her fastings, scourgings, vigils, and prayers. Guy’s words came back to her with every rite, “God strip you of your own goodness!” and she could not wrap herself in its mantle as complacently as before.
In the Abbey of Shaftesbury was one nun who drew Philippa’s attention more than the others. This was a woman of about sixty years of age, whom all the convent called Mother Joan. An upright, white-haired woman, with some remnant of former comeliness; but Mother Joan was blind. Philippa pitied her affliction, and liked her simple, straightforward manner. She had many old memories and tales of forgotten times, which she was ready enough to tell; and these Philippa, as well as the nuns, always liked to hear.
“How old were you, Mother Joan, when you became a nun?” she asked her one day during the recreation-hour.
“Younger than you, Lady,” said Mother Joan. “I was but an hilding (see Note 1) of twenty.”