“I am also told, child,” he continued, banishing memory for the moment, testing her replies, “that thou art over-merry. Nuns are sober-minded.”
“Methinks, my Lord,” quoth Brigid demurely, “that devotion on one note alone may prove a very monotonous chant.”
Again the Cardinal’s eyes twinkled. He liked the spirit that could find quick reply, fancied he saw here material other than usual for Sister Gabrielle the Novice Mistress, for all that saw her fashioning it willingly and to good purpose. Matters were not, however, wholly to his mind. Well-versed in dealing with mankind the girl’s resolve was very patent to him. He would learn further what had brought the resolve to light.
“Child,” he said on a sudden very grave, “thou hast told me little that is in thy mind.”
Brigid looked towards the window. “My Lord,” she said very low, “I lack words.”
“Find those thou canst,” he said kindly. “Perchance I may aid thee further.”
Brigid trembled. “Sir, I have seen a soul in jeopardy.”
“I have seen many, child. What then?”
“Ah, sir,” said Brigid, her voice thrilling, “thinking on the one soul I thought on others. I saw a warring world, Powers in deadly conflict, Christ nailed to the Cross watching with Patient Eyes. Sir, I would aid.”
“And how, child?”