I grew stronger every day, and began to go about house and out of doors, to help feed the fowls, and to gather greens, peas and herbs for the pottage; but mindful of his Grace's words, I did never stray far from home. My aunt staid with me a week, and then returned, but I heard from her not seldom, as the Duchess sent more than once to ask for me, and never without affording Master and Mistress Davis a chance of writing or sending by the same conveyance. As my health returned, I began to miss the constant occupation I had been used to all my life. I had often been ready to yawn my head off from sheer weariness while standing behind my mistress's chair, but at other times I had found great entertainment in listening to the conversation which went on in the drawing-room. Then I had been promoted to the place of teacher to my Lady Frances, who was a delightful companion (if I may venture to use the word of so great a young lady), as was also her governess, Mrs. Wardour. I loved Mistress Curtis like a mother, and I missed them all, not to speak of another, on whom I dared not allow my thoughts to dwell. I was fast sinking into a state of nerves and fancies, just for the want of aught else to do, when something happened to rouse me. It was not much—only a sermon from a stranger priest who visited our own parish Sir John, and preached for him. His subject was the bearing of the cross, and he repeated for his text the words of our Lord himself: "Yf eny man will come after me, let hym denye hym silfe, and take his crosse on hym dayly ād folowe me." * It did seem to me that the good man's discourse had been written expressly for me. It was as plain as a mother's talk with her children; not full of Latin, nor yet of stories to make the people laugh, like those of the preaching friars in general. * From Tyndale's translation. The preacher showed how each one had his cross to bear, and that not of his own choosing, but of God's. The crosses we chose for ourselves were many times but painted crosses, while those which our Father in heaven laid upon us were real—hard and sharp oftentimes, but yet capable of being made into a blessing if we did but take them up and carry them according to His will and in his spirit. Much more he said which I will not try to repeat—about the little crosses of every day, the thwarting of our plans, the fault-findings and injustice of those we are trying our best to save, and other such like trials, which might all be turned—so said the preacher—from curses to crosses, if only met in the right spirit. It was a very plain and simple discourse as I said, but it did me a great deal of good. It made me sensible that I had been repining and fretting over my cross instead of taking it up, and that I had thus missed the blessing which I might have found even in the bitter grief which had been darkening both heaven and earth for me.