Loveday's history

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin."

The poor lady smiled, and just as the last ray of the sun shot into the window, she passed peacefully away.

She was a good woman in the main, and very much of a lady, but she had allowed indolence—coming from an illness in the first place—to grow upon her, till it became an overmastering passion—if one can call indolence a passion.

It came to that, that any call to exertion was looked upon as a positive misfortune. She had such able assistants, that this state of things did not produce so much trouble as might have been expected, but any one who knows what a houseful of ungoverned young people is like, may guess what our community would have become but for Father Austin and mother assistant.

As soon as it was decent, a new meeting was called, and no one was surprised at the choice of mother assistant to be prioress. Mother Joanna was made assistant and Sister Bridget put in her place—a very good choice.

At "obedience," when we were all assembled in her room, our now prioress made us an address, and very noble and touching it was. She reminded us of our precarious condition, likely at any time to be turned out. She said she had been pained to know that some—she would name no names at present—but would leave the matter to our own consciences—had taken advantage of the state of things to behave in a way which was unbecoming their profession, and to good order. Here two or three of our best sisters who had been guilty of some little acts of forgetfulness kneeled down and kissed the floor, while Sister Perpetua and Sister Regina, who had been the ring-leaders, stood up as bold as brass. (It is always those who deserve blame least who take it to themselves.)

She then pointed out the importance of good order and discipline, that our enemies might have nothing whereof justly to accuse us. She would not conceal the fact that we stood in great peril, but we were in higher hands than our own. She would have us neither anxious nor careless, but pursuing a recollected and cheerful frame of mind, giving ourselves to prayer and good works, and not being anxious about the morrow. She would pass over all that had happened for the last few days, unless there were those who wished to clear their consciences by confessing any breach of discipline: but hereafter, every thing would be kept up to the standards of the house. She concluded by asking our prayers for herself and her assistants, in a tone of true humility that brought tears to many eyes. We noticed that she said nothing about praying for the soul of our departed mother, whereby we argued that she believed that soul to be already in Paradise. She then dismissed us with her blessing, and all things seemed to fall into their usual train.

I have heard that people who live where there are volcanoes, get used to them so that they carry on their business just as if nothing was the matter. We were then living on the crust of a volcano which might blow us into the air at any time, but we had already become used to it, and as the autumn passed into winter, we almost forgot our danger. Sister Perpetua, indeed, tried titles once or twice, but she soon found that while the reverend mother had a house over her head, she meant to be mistress in it, and after doing penance three whole days in the vaulted room under the sacristy on a diet of bread and water, and not much of that, she was very meek and subdued for a while.

Somehow or other the storm was diverted for that time. I suppose that Bishop Gardiner, being so great with the king, contrived to keep the matter from his knowledge. However it was, the apples were gathered and garnered in peace, the usual stock of faggots laid in, and we settled down to our in-door occupations as if nothing was the matter.

The reverend mother had a great deal of work put in hand, and instead of our usual whispered conversations, we had loud reading in the Imitation of Christ, and other good books. Sometimes our mother would read us passages out of the Gospels, from a little written book which she held in her hand, copied I fancy from that same great Bible which was never put in the church. I had read many of them before in the great book of Master Tyndale's, which my uncle kept in his desk, and they set me thinking more than ever of mine old home. These readings were much liked by the serious part of our community, and as for the others, what ever they might feel, they knew enough to keep their own counsel.