She owed Hugh much.  Yet there was another to whom she also owed a debt; how much she owed to him, this day’s new light had shewn her.  She would go forward to her joy with a freer heart if she gave herself time to discharge, by acknowledgment and thanks, the great debt she owed to her old and faithful friend, Symon, Bishop of Worcester.

She sent for her steward.

“Zachary,” she said, “Sir Hugh has ridden on before.  I follow by the short way through the forest, and shall not return to-night.  Bid them saddle my white palfrey, Icon.  I shall be ready to start within an hour.  But first I must despatch to Worcester, a packet of importance.  Bid two of the men, who rode with us from Worcester, prepare to mount and return thither.  If they start in an hour’s time, they can be well on their way, and make a safe lodging, before nightfall.”

She passed into the library, laid the cross before her on the table, and began her letter to the Bishop.

Straight from her hand to his, that letter went; straight from her heart to his, that letter spoke; and Symon’s comfort in it, lies largely in the knowledge that she was alone when she wrote it, alone when she sealed it, and that none in this world, saving they two, will ever know exactly what the woman, whom he had loved so purely and served so faithfully, said to him in this letter.

Bare facts, however, may be given.

She told him, as briefly as might be, of that morning’s great experience; of Hugh’s return, and noble self-effacement; of the clear light she had received, and the decision to which she had come; and of how she was now going forward, with a free heart, to her great happiness.

And then, in glowing words, she told him all she owed to his faithful, patient friendship, to the teaching of long years, the trend of which had always been life, light, liberty; a wider outlook, a fearless judgment, a clear knowledge of God, based on inspired writings; and, above all, belief in those words, often on his lips, always in his heart:  “Love never faileth.”

“Truly, my dear lord,” she wrote, “your love——­” Nay, it may not be quoted!

She told him how his teaching, following along the same lines as that of Father Gervaise years before, had prepared her mind for this revelation of the ever-living Saviour.

“Now the mystery is unveiled to me also,” she wrote, “I realise that you knew it all along; and that, had I but been more teachable, Reverend Father, you could have taught me more.  Oh, I pray you, take heart of grace, and teach these great truths to others.”

She blessed him for his faithfulness in striving to make her see her duty to Hugh, and her life’s true vocation.

She blessed him for her great happiness, yet thanked him for his care in sending her cross of office, thus making all easy in order that, had her conscience so required, she could have safely returned.  She herewith sent him the cross, and begged that he would keep it, remembering when he chanced to look upon it——­