"The work being new to me, comes a little awkward at first," she said. "But I think I shall get it in hand before long."
Mrs. Thorpe suspected that the woman had been out during the afternoon, or for some reason had neglected her work, else she would not be thus belated. Before leaving the kitchen she said:
"I have been making some plans about the work, Mary; we will talk them over in the morning."
Mary signified her willingness, but her face took on an even deeper flush, and when her mistress had gone she sat down and covered her face with her hands.
But it was only for a few moments, then she arose and resolutely finished her work and went her way, carrying her own peculiar burdens.
Mrs. Thorpe, as she prepared for her night's repose, looked again toward the church, now dimly outlined in the night, and the thought came to her that something of the sacredness and power that pervaded it might perhaps in some way reflect upon her life and sanctify it, and lead her into green pastures, and beside still waters. She saw the church spire, tall and spectral in the moonlight.
"It is like a guardian angel," she thought, "watching through the day and through the night."
CHAPTER II
MARGARET
Mary McGowan, the serving woman, was a woman whose life was nearing its meridian. Her form, somewhat stooped, spoke of a life of labor; her hair, combed smoothly back from her face, was well sprinkled with gray.