Lady Rosamond's book

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"I know of but five utterly friendless maids," answered Magdalen.

"Then I am sure I could care for them, with some help and advice," said I. "They would be away from the rest of the family, and would disturb no one; and if we were kept in health, I might teach them as well."

"'Tis a good thought, but we must do nothing hastily," said Mother Superior. "We ought to have the permission of our visitor, the Bishop, but he is now in Bristol, and some days must elapse before we could hear from him, and this seems a case for instant action."

"I am sure you would say so, madam, could you see the state of these poor babes!" returned Magdalen.

"Well, well, come to-morrow, and we will see," said Mother. "Meantime the holy relics are exposed in the church for the comfort of the faithful in this trying time. You had better visit them, and then go to the buttery and obtain some refreshment."

However, she did neither—I suppose from want of time. The next day she came again, and to my great joy, Mother consented, the need being so great, to receive the five little maidens, who were placed under my care in the Queen's room—Mother Mary Monica, at her own earnest request, being allowed to remain with us and oversee our proceedings. We began with a good washing and combing all round (not a nice piece of work by any means), and then dressed them in clean clothes, of which we had a plenty by us made up for our regular autumn doles. The dear old Mother was as pleased as a child with a new doll. I can't say the same for the poor children, who were strange, and scared, and at first hardly to be pacified; but by degrees they seemed to find the comfort of being clean, and by night they were all merrily at play, as if nothing had happened to them. We made up as many cot beds as there were children, and my own bed was moved into the room. Sister Anne also slept in the room till she was taken sick, when Amice was allowed to take her place.

I don't think, for my own part, that I was ever happier than when playing with these children, or teaching them their hornbook and the use of their little fat fingers. The oldest is about ten, a wise motherly little maid, and a great help to us with the others. The youngest is only three—the sole survivor of Roger Smith's family. Considering what the family was like, we may hope her loss may prove a gain.

There were many different opinions in the house concerning the sheltering of these orphans. Sister Catherine, who has not had so much to say about discipline since her dismissal from office, opened her mouth once more to protest against the great irregularity of our taking the babes, and the utter impropriety of their being committed to the care of the youngest person in the house. But Sister Placida, who is great in the history of this and other orders, and who has no objection (or so I think) to putting down Sister Catherine, brought so many precedents to bear against her, that she was fain to betake herself to her humility, her usual refuge when worsted. Some were terrified at the notion of bringing infection into the house; but in general, I must say, the Sisters were very kind to the poor children, and very glad of an excuse to slip away, and play with them.

It was two weeks after the pestilence broke out in the village before it appeared in the house. Sister Bridget was the first victim. She was taken in the night, with the heat and sweat, and, poor creature, had no more wit than to rise and stand for half an hour or more at the open window of her cell, till Mother Gertrude, making her rounds, discovered her state. She was taken at once to the infirmary, and died in a few hours, very happy and resigned, and saying, with almost her last breath, poor thing, that everybody had been very kind to her. From that time we had a new case or two every day for a week. Almost every one who had resolution enough to remain quietly in bed and bear the all but intolerable discomfort of the heat and bad odor, recovered; but many were light-headed, and unless watched every moment, would throw off the clothes and otherwise expose themselves: and every one who got the slightest chill died without remedy.

It was a trying time, and one which showed what people were made of; for the discipline of the family was necessarily much relaxed, the care of the sick being the principal matter, and each one showed in her true colors—very unexpected colors some of them have been. Mother Gabrielle, who has always been rather fussy and fidgetty, and especially apt to be scared on small occasions, and to fret over little accidents and losses, was as calm and cheerful as a summer morning, till she was taken down herself, when she made a most edifying end. Mother Superior, though calm and composed, was very sad. Mother Gertrude, just as usual.