I placed it on the floor. I would
gladly have called for my old garment; but I knew that I too had to
undergo the process of the new reformation; and, with much agony, I
desisted. But I drew the line at a biretta which cut my temples with its
angles, and I called out:--

"Mrs. Darcy."

A young woman, with her hair all tidied up, and with a white apron,
laced at the edges, and pinned to her breast, came out from a recess.
She was smiling bashfully, and appeared as if she would like to run away
and hide somewhere.

"Mrs. Darcy," I called again.

The young woman smiled more deeply, and said with a kind of smirk:--

"Here I am, your reverence!"

It is fortunate for me that I have acquired, after long practice, the
virtue of silence; for when I recognized the voice of my old friend, I
was thunderstruck. I'm sure I would have said something very emphatic,
but my habits restrained me. But I regret to say it was all a source of
distraction to me in the celebration of the Divine Mysteries, and during
the day. What had occurred? I was dying to know; but it would not be
consistent with the dignity of my position to ask. To this day, I
congratulate myself on my reticence; for, who could help asking how?
when face to face with a miracle. It was some days before I discovered
the secret of the magical transformation.

[Illustration: "Here I am, your Reverence!" (p. 56.)]

It would appear, then, that the late lamented Jem Darcy, when he
departed to his reward, left his poor widow two charges in the shape of
children. What do I say? Charges? No. She would scornfully repudiate the
word. For was not Patsey, the baby of eighteen months, "the apple of
her eye," and Jemmy, the little hunchback of six summers, "the core of
her heart"? For them she labored and toiled, and "moiled," as she used
to say; and worked herself into oil to get them bread, and a pink ribbon
for the baby's shoulder knot, and a navy cap, with "Hero" in gold
letters for Jemmy. And across her troubled life, full of cares and
apprehensions, poor soul! was there any gleam of sunshine, except that
which was reflected in the iris of her baby's eyes; or that which
dappled the mud floor of her cabin, when Jemmy lay there and played hide
and seek with the gossamer threads that shone through the chink in the
half-door! Ah me! it is easy to lecture the poor, and complain of their
horrid ways; but the love such as no man hath gilds and enamels most of
the crooked and grimy