"To different rooms and cells, I believe," replied Amabel. "I do not think any of them are used at present. A great deal more than half the house is shut up. See, this is Mother Superior's door."
Amabel scratched on the door with her nails as our convent fashion was, and it was opened to us by Mother Prudentia. The Superior received Mrs. Thorpe very graciously; it was not in her nature to be otherwise than kind even to a heretic. Mrs. Thorpe was evidently greatly impressed, and somewhat awe struck with the lady's dignity—nevertheless she conducted herself toward her with a kind of respectful frank independence, which made me like her all the more.
They had quite a long conversation, Amabel interpreting where it was needful. Among other things, the Superior asked Mrs. Thorpe to promise that she would in no way influence us in matters of religion.
"That I cannot promise, because it may not be in my power, my lady!" answered Mrs. Thorpe frankly. "I will promise so much as this, that I will enter into no arguments with the young ladies; for which indeed, I am no ways qualified, being but a plain woman with only wit enough to read my Bible, and do my duty in that state of life to which it has pleased God to call me. But I strive as a Christian woman to rule my household in the fear of God, and according to the lights He has given me. If these young ladies should be my guests for a time, I can only promise to be as faithful to them as I would have been to my own girls, if the Lord had spared them to me."
This pledge which Amabel faithfully translated, seemed to give dear mother more satisfaction than I should have expected. I think she was so near the Eternal gates, that the light was already shining for her, which makes all things plain. Mother Prudentia was called out at this moment, and there was a little silence.
"She ought not to talk any more!" whispered Mrs. Thorpe. "She is tired out now."
The words were not out of her mouth, before dear Mother fainted entirely away.
"Don't be alarmed! It is but a fainting-fit," said Mrs. Thorpe, catching her in her arms, laying her back in her chair and applying to her nose a smelling-bottle, which she took from her pocket—all in the space of an instant. "Run one of you, and bring some wine or strong waters, and call one of the ladies—you, my dear, open the window and help me to loosen her dress."
As we unloosed her girdle and opened her dress, I saw that she wore a sharp cross on her bosom and that her undergarment was of the roughest woolen, which must have been very irritating and distressing in hot weather. I glanced at Mrs. Thorpe, and saw a look of anger and disgust on her honest face.
"Poor thing, poor thing!" she muttered. "As if she could not trust the Lord to send her all the trouble she needed, without making more for herself; they must needs be wise, above what is written—there, don't cry, my dear, she is coming to herself. See, her lips are getting quite a color, poor lady."