Then it became a question of dress. And it was with the greatest difficulty, and only by appealing to her humility, and as a penance, that I at last induced her to consent to come up to the altar rails after all the people had received Holy Communion. There was a slight stir next morning when all the people had reverently retired from the Holy Table. I waited, holding the Sacred Host over the Ciborium. The people wondered. Then, from the farthest recess of the church, a draped figure stole slowly up the aisle. All knew it was Nance. So far from contempt, only pity, deep pity, filled the hearts of old and young; and one could hear clearly the tchk! tchk! that curious click of sympathy which I believe is peculiar to our people. The tears streamed down the face of the poor penitent as I placed the Sacred Host upon her tongue. Then she rose strengthened, and walked meekly, but firmly, back to her place. As she did, I noticed that she wore a thick black shawl. It was the quick eye of my curate that had seen all. It was his gentle, kind heart that forestalled me.
I got an awful scolding from Hannah when I came home that night in the rain.
"Never mind, Hannah," I said, when she had exhausted her diatribe, "I never did a better night's work in my life."
She looked at me keenly; but these poor women have some queer way of understanding things; and she said humbly:—
FOOTNOTES:
[5] Charity towards men, as the charity of God towards us.
CHAPTER XV
HOLLY AND IVY