Lady Rosamond's book

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

* The sentences in brackets were writ on the margin of Lady Rosamond's book, but in transcribing I have put them in the body of the work. Most of them seem to have been added at a later date.—D. C.

"Sister Catherine, is not your charge in the wardrobe at this hour?" asked Mother Superior (methought somewhat dryly). Sister Catherine retired without a word, but I can't say she looked very humble. If she were not a devoted religious, I should say she looked ready to bite.

"You have made a good piece of work between you, my children," said Mother; "and now we are in order, we must keep in order. 'Tis not often that a lady's house possesses so many books as ours, and we have, I fear, hardly prized them as we ought. When Rosamond comes to be abbess, she will make our poor house a seminary of learning."

"What have you got there, child?"

"'Tis a great book of blank paper, dear Mother," said I, showing this book to her. "It has been begun as an accompt, as I think, and then as a receipt, but it is mostly empty."

"And you would like to fill it?" said Mother, smiling: "Well, well, you have been a good maid, and deserve a reward. You shall have the book, and write a chronicle of your life therein, as did your great grandame of hers. You are a true Corbet, and 'Corbys will have quills,' is an old saying of your house."

I was well pleased, for I do love to write; but what can I say about my own life, only the little things which happen every day, and much the same to every one. To be sure, in the lives of saints, as well as in the history books, I do love best to read about the common things, even such as what they ate, and how they slept, and so on. It seems to bring them nearer to one. Not that I shall ever be a saint, I am sure. Sister Catherine was right there. I should be more likely to make a good housewife. Sometimes I fear I have no vocation at all, though I have, as it were, grown up with a veil on my face. Richard Stanton used to say I should never make a nun.

Now I am going to begin my life. My name is Rosamond Corbet, and I was born in Devonshire. My father is a worshipful knight, Stephen Corbet by name, and my mother Alice Stanton, a niece of my Lord Stanton, at the great house. The Corbets are the elder family, having lived at Fresh Water long before the Stantons, who only came in with the Conqueror. The name used to be writ Corby, and the common folk call it so to this day. The corby, or hooded crow, is the cognizance of our house, and this bird, commonly of evil omen, is said to be lucky to our race. 'Tis not a nice bird, and I could wish we had an eagle or a falcon to our crests; but after all they are alike birds of prey. They say we are not Saxon, but British in descent, and that is how we come by our black hair and eyes. The Stantons, who should, methinks, be dark, are all fair.

I was the youngest of my family. My mother was a great friend of the Lady Margaret Vernon, our dear Mother Superior. It was thought at one time she had herself a strong vocation, but she met with Sir Stephen, and there was an end of that. So to make amends, I suppose, she promised her second girl to this house, or her first, if she had but one. So I, being the second maid, the lot fell on me, and I have spent at least half my time here since I was five years old. I like it well enough too, though I confess I am now and then glad to get back home and run about the woods' and sands, and play with the babes in the cottages. I do love children, specially young children. I think my vocation will be to teaching, or else to the pantry and pastry-room. Once I told Sister Gertrude so, and she said it reminded her of her younger brother, who when asked what he would do when he was grown up, answered that he would be a bishop, or else a fisherman, like old Will Lee.

Once I stayed at home six years. It was then I learned to write and to construe Latin, from my brother's tutor, Master Ellenwood. I was always a great pet of his, and when he offered to teach me Latin, my father made no objection, saying that a little learning would do me no harm, and might sometime stand me in good stead.