The Bishop had known Hugh d'Argent as a boy.
He grieved to see him thus in sorrow.
Yet the Bishop smiled as he rode on.
Perhaps he did not put much faith in the efficacy of relics, for so heavily bandaged a broken head as that upon the stretcher.
For there was a whimsical tenderness about the Bishop's smile.
CHAPTER XIX
THE BISHOP PUTS ON HIS BIRETTA
Symon, Lord Bishop of Worcester, having received a letter from the Prioress of the White Ladies, praying him for an interview at his leisure, sent back at once a most courtly and gracious answer, that he would that same day give himself the pleasure of visiting the Reverend Mother, at the Nunnery, an hour after Vespers.
The great gates were thrown open, and the Bishop rode his palfrey into the courtyard.
The Prioress herself met him at the door and, kneeling, kissed his ring; then led him through the lower hall, where the nuns knelt to receive his blessing, and up the wide staircase, to the privacy of her own cell.