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Updated: May 28, 2025
"O mother!" cried Abby, the day after the arrival of the unique May-basket from Father Dominic, "now that we have such a lovely statue of the Blessed Virgin, don't you think we ought to make a regular altary." "A what!" exclaimed Mrs. Clayton, at a loss to understand what her little daughter could possibly mean. "I told you that you might have an altar, dear.
And, Abby, be sure that you do not keep Miss Remick waiting when she comes to give you your music lesson." "But what about the altary oh, oratory I mean?" asked Abby, dejectedly. "There is a piece of muslin in the linen press which you may take to cover the altar," said her mother; "but do not attempt to arrange anything more. I will attend to the rest next week.
And you may arrange it whenever you please." "No, but an altary," persisted Abby. "The Tyrrells have an altary in their house, and I wish we could have one too. Why, you must know what it is, mother, just a little room fitted up like a chapel; and the family say their prayers there night and morning, and at other times if they wish." "Oh, an oratory!" observed Mrs.
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