_
_Then was our mouth filled with laughter: and our tongue with joy._
_Then said they among the heathen: The Lord hath done great things
for them._
_Yea, the Lord hath done great things for us already: whereof we
rejoice._
_Turn our captivity, O Lord: as the rivers in the south._
_They that sow in tears: shall reap in joy._
_He that now goeth on his way weeping, and beareth forth good seed:
shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his sheaves with
him._
The Father Superior of the Order sang the Mass, while the Bishop of
Alberta seated in his Glastonbury chair suffered with an expression of
childlike benignity the ritualistic ministrations of Brother Raymond,
the ceremonial doffing and donning of his mitre. It was very still in
the little Oratory, for it was the season when birds are hushed; and
even Sir Charles Horner who was all by himself in the ante-chapel did
not fidget or try to peep through the heavy brocaded curtains that shut
out the quire. Mark dared not look up when at the offertory Brother
Anselm stood before the Altar and answered the solemn interrogations of
the Father Superior, question after question about his faith and
endurance in the life he desired to enter.
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