There was a stool or two and
some shelves against the wall, with a plate or two upon them and one or
two tools. She received the boxes handed through, and followed Mistress
Margaret's instructions as to where to place them; and when all was done,
she slipped back again through the chest into the lobby.
The priest and his mother were still in their places, motionless.
Mistress Margaret closed the chest inside and out, beckoned Isabel into
the sitting-room and closed the door behind them. Then she threw her arms
round the girl and kissed her again and again.
"My own darling," said the nun, with tears in her eyes. "God bless
you--your first mass. Oh! I have prayed for this. And you know all our
secrets now. Now go to your room, and to bed again. It is only a little
after five. You shall see him--James--before he goes. God bless you, my
dear!"
She watched Isabel down the passage; and then turned back again to where
the other two were still kneeling, to make her own thanksgiving.
Isabel went to her room as one in a dream. She was soon in bed again, but
could not sleep; the vision of that strange worship she had assisted at;
the pictorial details of it, the glow of the two candles on the shoulders
of the crimson chasuble as the priest bent to kiss the altar or to adore;
the bowed head of the server at his side; the picture overhead with the
Mother and her downcast eyes, and the radiant Child stepping from her
knees to bless the world--all this burned on the darkness.
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