Hæc.—"What did she mean, then, by the Sodom and Gomorrah?"
Illa.—"Alas! the whole world was a Sodom and Gomorrah, why, then, not the convent, since it lay in the world? For though we do not sin in words or works, yet we may sin in thought; and this was evidently the case with some of these young things, for if the talk in their hearing was of marriage, they laughed and tittered, so that it was a scandal and abomination!"
Hæc.—"But had she anything else to tell her—what had she come for?"
Illa.—"Ah! she had forgotten. The abbess sent to say, that she must begin to knit the gloves directly for the canons of Camyn. Here was the thread."
Hæc.—"Thousand devils! what did she mean?" Illa (crossing herself).—"Ah! the pious sister might let the devils alone, though (God be good to us) the world was indeed full of them!"
Hæc.—"What did she mean, then, by this knitting—to talk to her so—the lady of castles and lands?"
Illa.—"Why, the matter was thus. The reverend canons of Camyn, who were twelve in number, purchased their beer always from the convent—for such had been the usage from the old Catholic times—and sent a waggon regularly every half-year to fetch it home. In return for this goodness, the nuns knit a pair of thread gloves for each canon in spring, and a pair of woollen ones in winter."
Hæc.—"Then the devil may knit them if he chooses, but she never will. What! a lady of her rank to knit gloves for these old fat paunches! No, no; the abbess must come to her! Send a message to bid her come."
And truly, in a little time, the abbess, Magdalena von Petersdorf, came as she was bid; for she had resolved to try and conquer Sidonia's pride and insolence by softness and humility.
But what a storm of words fell upon the worthy matron!