midnight
Cicely did not die . On the contrary , she grew strong and well in her body , though it was long before her mind recovered . Indeed , she glided about the place like a ghost in her black mourning robe , for now she no longer doubted that Christopher was dead , and she , the wife of a week , widowed as well as orphaned . Then in her utter desolation came comfort ; a light broke on the darkness of her soul like the moon above a tortured midnight sea . She was no longer quite alone ; the murdered Christopher had left his image with her . If she lived a child would be born to him , and therefore she would surely live . One evening , on her knees , she whispered her secret to the Prioress Matilda , whereat the old nun blushed like a girl , yet , after a moment 's silent prayer , laid a thin hand upon her head in blessing .