As I stood by the heavy stone in Wrington churchyard, in the gloom of an autumn afternoon, where the names of the four sisters are inscribed, I could but think of the gratitude we ought to feel to them for their brave efforts to spread the knowledge of the religion of Christ amongst the poor of those 'rolling hills' and peaceful valleys of Somersetshire. It must have been hard for a woman of culture like Hannah More to be met by opposition, and in some cases fierce denunciation; harder still to be smiled at by those in high places, as a fanatic and a visionary. But turning from the ugly, weather-worn stone, enclosed in high rusty railings, to the beautiful church, where what light there was yet in the sky, came through the many-coloured window lately erected to Hannah More's memory, I thought, that as nothing that is good and beautiful, coming from the Fountain of all beauty and all goodness, can ever die, so the light which Hannah More kindled in many humble hearts was still shining in the eternal kingdom, where those that have lived as in the presence of the Son of God here, shine as the stars for ever in their Heavenly Father's realm.
That touch of Nature which makes the whole world kin brought the two girls near to each other, as Joyce laid her hand upon Susan's, and said:
"I am very sorry for you; I shall not forget you;" then added, looking down on the prostrate form which Susan had so determinedly kept from doing further mischief:
"I am sorry for you, too; it must be hard to want bread--but, but--do try to be good and find work."
"Find work, find work! If that's all you can say you'd better hold your tongue."
But though the words were rough the tones grew less fierce, and Susan, finding her restraint was no longer needed, stood up and watched Gilbert Arundel and Joyce pursue the narrow track across the heather till they were lost in the shadows of the gathering twilight.
"I think I do," Joyce answered; "our shepherd's cottage is on the next ridge, and when we get there we can see our own valley and the tower of the church."
"Are you very tired?" Gilbert asked again.
"Not very; but I cannot help trembling; it is so silly. Do tell me if that man hurt you."
"He gave me a good shaking. What a giant he is! I felt as your Nip or Pip might feel in Duke's clutches if he were angry."