She was bred here, and never left it, though she was a
King's daughter. Edith was her name, and two days after Holy Cross
day we shall keep her feast. Shall I tell you her story?"
"Prithee, prithee!" exclaimed Grisell. "I love a tale dearly."
Sister Avice told the legend, how St. Edith grew in love and
tenderness at Wilton, and how she loved the gliding river and the
flowers in the garden, and how all loved her, her young playmates
especially. She promised one who went away to be wedded that she
would be godmother to her first little daughter, but ere the daughter
was born the saintly Edith had died. The babe was carried to be
christened in the font at Winchester Cathedral, and by a great and
holy man, no other than Alphegius, who was then Bishop of Winchester,
but was made Archbishop of Canterbury, and died a holy martyr.
"Then," said Sister Avice, "there was a great marvel, for among the
sponsors around the square black font there stood another figure in
the dress of our Mother Abbess, and as the Bishop spake and said,
"Bear this taper, in token that thy lamp shall be alight when the
Bridegroom cometh," the form held the torch, shining bright, clear,
and like no candle or light on earth ever shone, and the face was the
face of the holy Edith. It is even said that she held the babe, but
that I know not, being a spirit without a body, but she spake the
name, her own name Edith.
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