"I think I am mistaken."
"I am sure that you are, good mother," said Salome.
The lady's eyes were still fixed upon the relic, until at length she closed the locket with a click and laid it away in the little drawer, saying, clearly and firmly:
"Yes, I see that I was mistaken."
"I am very glad you know it," remarked Salome.
"So am I. It is a relief. And now, dear daughter, I will dismiss you to your rest. To-morrow we will consult concerning your affairs, and see what is best for you to do," said the abbess.
"I know what is best for me to do—my duty. And my very first duty is to hasten immediately to England, seek out my dear husband, confess all my cruel misapprehension of his conduct, and implore his pardon. I am sure of his pardon, and of his love! As sure as I am of my Heavenly Lord's pardon and love when I kneel to Him and confess and deplore my sins!" fervently exclaimed the young wife.
"Yes, I suppose you must return to England now. I do suppose that, after what we have discovered, you cannot remain here and become a nun," sighed the abbess, unwilling to resign her favorite.
"No, indeed, I cannot remain here. But I will richly endow the Infants' Asylum, dear mother. And I will visit, it every year of my life. I am going to retire now, good mother. Bless me," murmured Salome, bending her head.
"Benedicite, fair daughter," said the abbess, spreading her open palms over the beautiful, bowed head as she invoked the blessing.