Mrs. Fortescue was the widow of an officer, who died of cholera in the
East Indies, leaving her with one daughter, and no other means of
support than a small annuity and her pension. An old servant of her
own had married a corporal in the same regiment, who having purchased
his discharge, now followed the trade of a carpenter, to which he had
been brought up, previous to enlisting, and was settled in his native
place, and the faithful Hannah, hearing of the Captain's death wrote
to Mrs. Fortescue, telling her, not only of the beauty of the spot,
but the cheapness of living in that part of the world, concluding by
saying, a house was then vacant, and could be had on very reasonable
terms. Mrs. Fortescue immediately wrote and engaged it. Though a
common looking building, yet by putting a veranda round, and making a
few alterations inside, it soon, with a little painting and papering,
was transformed into a pretty cottage. The work required was an
advantage to Mrs. Fortescue, inasmuch as it occupied her mind and thus
prevented her dwelling on her recent affliction, in other respects
too, she felt that a kind providence had directed her steps to the
little village in which we find her--and the good she found to do, was
the greatest balm her wounded spirit could receive: for though her
means were so limited, still, a wide field of usefulness lay before
her.

Mrs. Fortescue had a strong mind, and though her trial was hard, very
hard to bear, she remembered from whom it came, and not a murmur
escaped her. Devotedly attached to her husband, she deeply lamented
her loss, still she sorrowed not as one without hope: she had the
consolation of knowing few were better prepared for the change; and
she strove to take comfort in reflecting how greatly her grief would
have been augmented, were not such the case. But she felt that her