“Thanks, Sister Avice.—By my Lady Saint Mary! where was I? Oh ay!—Regina Patriarcharum, ora pro nobis!—Well, Dame Lyngern, I will do you to wit what befell.”
But Maude’s eyes and attention were riveted.
“Be there two Avices in the Priory at Aldgate?—crying your Ladyship mercy.”
“Nay,—but one,” said Isabel. “Wherefore, Dame?”
“But—this is not my Avice!” faltered Maude.
“I am Saint Clare’s Avice, and none other,” said the nun stonily.
“But—Avice de Narbonne?”
“Avice de Narbonne I was; and thou wert Maude Gerard.”
“Christ’s mercy on thee!”
“What signifiest?” responded Avice, sternly. “I am an holy sister, and as Sister Isabel shall certify unto thee, am defamed for holiest of all our house.”