We found the good woman in her closet; a small room opening from her parlor, where she had a table, and chair, a shelf or two of books, a clock, and her large Bible and prayer-book, both of which lay open.
"Good morning, my dear young ladies!" said Mrs. Thorpe, as heartily as if nothing had happened. "I did not think you would be awake so early, and told Betsy not to disturb you."
"We have been up a long time, but we did not wish to interrupt you!" answered Amabel. "Mrs. Thorpe we have come to say, that we are very sorry for what happened yesterday, and we will never go anywhere again without your permission."
"And I am sorry I cried so last night!" I added on my own account.
Crying when reproved was a great offence in our convent days.
"Bless you, my dear, you could not help it; it was only a fit of the mother—hysterics, folks call it nowadays—from being tired, and over-wrought. But I don't want to be arbitrary with you, my dears. You are not children any more, and though I do hold to absolute obedience on the part of young folks to their elders who have the charge, and must answer for them, yet I would have it a reasonable, and not a blind obedience. The world, my dears, is full of snares for the young, and especially for young maids—snares of which they know and can know nothing, neither what they are nor how to guard against them; neither should they wish to know, seeing that the very knowledge of evil tends in some measure to corrupt the mind.
"'Can a man touch pitch, and not be defiled?' asks the good book? And so young people, and particularly young maids, whether gentle or simple, must be contented to do what they are bid, and come and go as they are told by those to whom the Lord has given the ordering of them. Many a girl who is now on the streets of Newcastle ruined in body and soul, and made as the offscourings of all men, might be safe at home, if she would but have trusted in, and been guided by her mother, whose heart she has broken, bringing her down in shame and sorrow to her grave."
Mrs. Thorpe spoke with such feeling and tenderness, that it brought the tears to both our eyes.
"There, now I have preached my little sermon, and we will say no more about this matter!" resumed Mrs. Thorpe, in a more cheerful tone. "We will have our breakfast, and then I have something else to say to you."
We usually breakfasted alone with Mrs. Thorpe, who liked to sit chatting over her cup of tea, having regulated her domestic affairs at an early hour. We had not then learned to drink tea, and Mrs. Thorpe had had a pot of chocolate prepared for us. We sat sipping it, while she opened her great subject.