"This young lady had been taught by her mother, who was a well-educated lady. She had most of the care of the family, for her father had a large parish, and very little means, so that he was obliged to till a piece of land to help out the living.
"So my young maid—her name was Mary, too—heard her brother's Latin accidence, and so on till he was ready to go to a foundation school, where he got an Oxford scholarship, and was made a professor or master, I don't know just what they call it. Another brother got a berth on a good ship, and now commands a fine vessel of his own.
"Of her two sisters, one keeps a girls' school at Gateshead, where she has brought up many fine girls to be blessings to their families. The other married a sailor, who, after many prosperous voyages was cast away in sight of his own home; and now she keeps a shop, where all the fine ladies about come to buy laces, gloves, and sweet waters, and oftentimes to learn embroidery stitches and the like.
"My saint herself lived to lay her honored father's head in the grave, and to see every one of his children doing well in all ways, and then she went home to her well-earned rest. Yes, indeed, my Mary, my more than mother!—Thou dost rest from thy labors, and thy works do follow thee!"
"That is my saint, girls," said Mrs. Thorpe, after a little pause. "How do you like her?"
"I think she was lovely!" said Amabel, with enthusiasm. "And all the better because she did not choose her own work. It was just as if God himself set her a task, was it not?"
"Yes, my dear Mrs. Amabel, God sets us all tasks, if we would but see them."
"And was this lady your sister?" I asked.
"Yes, my dear, my oldest sister; and if I ever have done any good in this world, it is owing to her. I will show you her picture at home. A traveling artist drew it for us. But it was odd you should never have known of this cell," said Mrs. Thorpe, returning to Amabel's tale. "Does it not open to the church now?"
"No; I believe she was built up in it after she died. But there are a great many places about our house that we never saw."