It has, somehow, leaked out—I can't guess how, unless by means of some eavesdropper—that I sent a book to my cousin, when my father was here; and Sister Catherine has taken me severely to task therefor. I told her that Richard was my cousin, and that I had Mother Superior's leave.
"Pretty discipline—pretty discipline!" she muttered. "Sending love tokens from a religious house. Well, well, we shall see. As for you, Mistress Rosamond, you are high in favor just now, and all you do is well, because, forsooth, you have a cunning hand with the needle, and can skill to read Latin; but have a care! Favorites are not long lived, and pride may have a fall!"
I made her no answer, and so she left me.
Eve of St. John the Baptist, June 23rd.
We have been mighty busy all day preparing for the feast to-morrow. We are to have high mass, and the celebrant is none other than my Lord Bishop himself, who thus honors our poor family. He has been here to-day, and has had long conference with Mother Superior, Father Fabian and the other elders. I fancy the two first wear a shade of care, and even the Bishop does not look as easy and merry as when I have seen him before.
[CHAPTER VII.]
St. John Baptist's Day, June 24.
TO my great surprise, I myself was summoned to the Bishop's presence last evening. He was sitting in a great chair in the parlor, and received me graciously and kindly.