Lady Rosamond's book

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

His Lordship, though very grave, was kind and fatherly, as when I had seen him before. He would have me sit, after I had knelt to him on entering, and then before Father Fabian and the two Mothers he began questioning me about Amice. Had I ever suspected her of any leaning toward heresy? Had we ever talked on the subject? Did I know what books she had had, and how she had gained them?

At the answer to this last question, "that I believed she had found a part at least of what she had, concealed in a chair in the Queen's room," I saw the Bishop and Father Fabian look on each other. Then he asked me whether I had been intimate with Mrs. Bullen; to which I said decidedly no! That I did not like her, nor she me, and we kept apart as much as possible.

"That is well!" said he. "The woman is a pest, and will be a greater." Then he asked me of my own opinions, to which I answered that I had never thought of believing save as I had been taught, which was quite true at that time, whatever may be the case now. I believe I satisfied him at last, for he kindly gave me his blessing, and said there was no need of my being secluded longer—which by the way was the first time I had known I was secluded at all. But he gave me many sharp and solemn cautions about meddling with matters too high for me, which certainly I had no mind to do at that time, being mortally tired, and wanting nothing so much as to get back to bed.

At last I was dismissed, and Mother Placida kissed me, even with tears, and said how glad she was all was well, and farther relieved her heart by bringing me for dinner twice as much of all sorts of nice things as I could eat, and a cup of her fragrant rose cordial, which I know she treasures as if it were a draught from the water of life.

When I got about the house again—which was not for some days—I found many, and some sad changes. Poor Mother Gertrude sat in the sun, spinning of fine thread, and looking far more aged and feeble even than Mother Mary Monica. She seemed hardly to know me at first, and when she did, was so troubled and distressed that I hardly could pacify her. I found a stranger holding the place of Mother Assistant, a hard-looking woman, with sharp black eyes, which seemed to see everything at once. Sister Clare told me she was a nun from the house at Exeter, and added that nobody liked her except Sister Catherine, who was very great with her.

I could see that the reins were tightened up in every way. More work was done, and the hours of prayer and silence were multiplied. Sister Clare also told me that the elder nuns were much dissatisfied with having a stranger put over them; and that after Amice's death, the whole household had kept a nine days' fast and devotion, to expiate the sin of having harbored an apostate. But we had little talk together; for Mother Assistant encountering us bade us remember the rule of particular friendships, and sent Sister Catherine to join us, which of course put an end to all conversation but her own. She had much to say about the improvements in the family, and as to how it would be impossible in future for any one to fall into such disorders as had obtained among the younger members of the family.

I escaped as soon as I could, and went away by myself to the corner where poor Amice lay buried. I could not be sure of the exact place, for the ground was levelled flat and made bare for some distance. Somebody had sowed grass seed, which was already beginning to come up; and seeing many lily of the valley roots lying about on the grass, I ventured to replace them in the soil, where I hope they are now blooming.

For a good many days after I got up, I was very feeble, and fit for none but the lightest work. I could not even embroider, because mine eyes were weak; so I fell back upon making of cherry-tree and strawberry-nets against summer; and on my knitting, which I found a great resource. Also I took to learning by heart such Psalms as I did not know, and whole chapters of "The Imitation of Christ," and found great comfort therein.

'Twas drawing toward Christmas-tide, and very warm and mild for the season. I was gathering such late flowers as still bloomed in sheltered spots, to decorate the shrine in the Lady Chapel, when Mother Placida came to tell me that some one had come to see me, and I was to go to Mother Superior's parlor without delay. A little thing sufficed to disturb me in those days; and I was already trembling and flurried, when I entered the parlor. The first person I saw was my father, looking much better in health and spirits than when I saw him last, and with him a fine, handsome lady.

Mother Superior was present behind the grating, and looked strangely disturbed and troubled. My father raised me in his arms and kissed me tenderly, and then turning to the lady, he said: