I had often dreamed of waking in this very room, and now the reality seemed like a dream. At last I roused myself thoroughly, as I heard the house astir. I must needs confess, that it was with no small pleasure that I hung up my gray flannel robe, and arrayed myself in the clean body-linen, blue gown, and laced-hood and partlet; nor was it without a sensation of gratified vanity, that I looked in the glass, and saw that the image reflected there was a reasonably fair one. Considering that I had not seen my own visage for so many years, I might be excused for lingering before it a little. I was at this time about eighteen, a well-grown, healthy-looking black * maid; with a dark clear skin, which showed every change of color; coal black brows, and dark eyes with long lashes, and very thick black hair, crisped to the roots and always wanting to stray into rebellious little curls about my brow and neck. Walter used say my hair was never meant for a nun's coif and veil. I don't think I was vainer than other maids, but it is natural to young things to wish to look well, and, certainly, I was no exception to the rule. * A black person then, and long after, only meant one with black hair. I said my prayers, and put my bed to rights, and then began looking about the room. All was very much as I had left it; so much so that I half expected, on opening the garderobe, to find Katherine's kirtle fallen from its nail, and Avice's hanging primly in its place. A little door, which I did not remember, opened into a light closet, where was a small table, a chair and hassock, and a couple of books. I took up the larger volume, and was both delighted and surprised to find it a copy of the New Testament. I opened into the Gospel of St. John, but had no time to read more than a few words before a knock came to the door of my bedroom. I opened it, and there stood Philippa. "My aunt has sent me to call you," she began, and then, with a curious change of tone: "So you have left off your gown and veil already. Well, it must be confessed, you have lost no time." "I have but done as Mistress Davis requested," said I, feeling my cheek flame at the tone of supercilious reproof. "Oh, you are very obedient, no doubt. I should suppose that you owed as much obedience to your religious vows as to—however, that kind of obedience is out of fashion now-a-days." "I have never taken any vows, Mrs. Philippa," I answered. "And the reverend mother bade me be guided by Mistress Davis in all things. I suppose she knows what is proper for young maids, as we are, better than we can ourselves." "Oh, very well; I did not come to quarrel with you, but to call you to breakfast." She turned round and I followed her, feeling discomposed and uncomfortable. Mistress Davis's motherly kiss and welcome, however, soon restored me.