She was seated against the south wall of the tower, on a stool, I thought,
or small table. While I was wandering about the church she had taken her
stocking and wires out of her pocket, and was now knitting busily. How her
needles did go! Her eyes never regarded them, however, but, fixed on the
slabs that paved the tower at a yard or two from her feet, seemed to be
gazing far out to sea, for they had an infinite objectless outlook. To try
her, I took for the moment the position of an accuser.
"So you don't mind working in church?" I said.
When I spoke she instantly rose, her eyes turned as from the far sea-waves
to my face, and light came out of them. With a smile she answered--
"The church knows me, sir."
"But what has that to do with it?"
"I don't think she minds it. We are told to be diligent in business, you
know, sir."
"Yes, but it does not say in church and out of church. You could be
diligent somewhere else, couldn't you?"
As soon as I said this, I began to fear she would think I meant it. But she
only smiled and said, "It won't hurt she, sir; and my good man, who does
all he can to keep her tidy, is out at toes and heels, and if I don't keep
he warm he'll be laid up, and then the church won't be kep' nice, sir, till
he's up again.
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