"I never thought of that!" said I. "And to tell you truth, Mistress Hall, I never thought much about it."
"But you will think, dear maiden!" said she, with a sweet eagerness. "You will read and think, and ask for aid and light from above to understand."
I had no time to make any promise, for at that moment one of the maids came to find us, with a message from Mistress Davis, that dinner would soon be ready. Mistress Hall thanked her, and asked after her mother.
"It seems to me that I have seen you before," said I, as the maid answered that her mother was well.
Cicely blushed and answered modestly that she remembered me quite well, adding:
"But you were a very young lady then. Do you remember the night that you came with your uncle to Goodman's farm, and the kind gentleman gave Dame Goodman a piece of silver and bade her fill my pitcher?"
"Oh yes; you are little Cicely Higgins," said I. "You went with your mother to live with John Blunt and his wife at the almshouse. What has become of them?"
"They are both dead," answered the maid, quietly. Then making a courtesy, she went away.
"That is a nice girl; I am glad she has so good a home," said I.
"Yes; any one who lives with my step-dame has a good home," answered Mistress Hall. "I would all knew it as well as poor little Cicely. Tell me, Mistress Loveday, do you think my husband guilty of sacrilege because he bought a convent organ to save it from the fire and the melting-pot?"