She opened her work-box, seated herself at the table, and commenced her toil of pleasure—for that young girl loved her needle, and abhorred idleness.
She then fell into a reverie as she worked.
"To be a hangman is something horrible indeed," she mused aloud; "but to be a member of a hangman's family is far worse. He knows that he merits what reproach is levelled against him, if indeed his office deserve reproach at all; but I, who abhor the bare idea, and never so much as witnessed an execution—why should shame and obloquy redound upon me? It is like suffering for a crime of which one is innocent! O God, is this human justice? What have I done that the vilest and lowest should despise me? Am I not flesh and blood like them? do my clothes carry pollution, that the ragged beggar draws her tatters close to her as she passes me? Oh! give me strength, heaven, to support my wretched fate; for there are moments when I despair!"
"You are wrong to mistrust the goodness of the Almighty," said a mild voice close behind her chair.
Kate started, and looked round.
It was the rector of St. David's who had entered he room, unperceived by the young maiden.
"Pardon me, reverend sir," answered Kate; "I know that I am often forgetful of the wholesome lessons which I have received from your lips; but——"
"Well, well, poor child," interrupted Reginald Tracy, to whose cheeks the phrase "wholesome lessons" brought a flush of crimson—for he remembered how he himself had deviated from the doctrines which he had long successfully and sincerely taught: "be consoled! I know how sad must be our lot; and I have called this morning to see if I cannot ameliorate it."
"What? better my condition, sir?" exclaimed Katherine. "Oh! how is that possible?"
"We will see," answered the rector, taking a chair near the young maiden. "You are not altogether so friendless as you imagine."