“I go,” she rejoined, “with this child, to the cell of an eremitess of whom she hath told me, ‘that hath,’ quoth she, ‘great power of comforting the sorrowful.’ All about here seem to know her. They call her the Grey Lady.”
Guy looked on her long and earnestly, an expression creeping over his face which Philippa could not understand.
“Be it so,” he said at last. “‘I will lead the blind by a way that they know not.’ Let my voice be silent when He speaketh. Verily”—and his voice fell to a softer tone—“I never passed through the deep waters wherein she has waded; nor, perchance, where you have. Let God speak to you through her. Go your way.”
“But who is she—this Grey Lady?”
Philippa asked in vain. Guy either did not hear her, or would not answer. He walked rapidly down the hill, with only “Farewell!” as he passed her; and she went her way, to meet her fate—rather, to meet God’s providence—in the cell of the Grey Lady.
Note 1. Anchorites never left their cells, though they received visitors within them, and sometimes taught children; hermits wandered about freely.
Note 2. Saint Agnes’ Day is January 21; but the 28th, instead of the octave of Saint Agnes, was commonly called Saint Agnes the second.