She could darn either lace, table-linen, India muslin, or stockings, so that no one could tell where the hole or rent had been.

Though a good Protestant, and never missing Guy Faux day at church, she was as skilful at fine work as any nun in a Papist convent.

She would take a piece of French cambric, and by drawing out some threads, and working in others, it became delicate lace in a very few hours.

She did the same by Hollands cloth, and made coarse strong lace, with which all my lady's napkins and table-linen were trimmed.

We worked under her during a great part of the day, either in the still-room, or at our sewing in a chamber that opened out of the great hall.