Read it through once

“We kissed her cold hand, and then we followed her to her grave in Shinfield Church, near the door, very deep and in a fine soil, with room above it for her own dear husband and her own dear child. God grant we may tread in her steps!... No human being was ever so devoted to her duties—so just, so pious, so charitable, so true, so feminine, so industrious, so generous, so disinterested, so lady-like—never thinking of herself, always of others—the best mother, the most devoted wife, the most faithful friend.... Oh, that I could but again feel the touch of that dear hand! God forgive me my many faults to her, blessed angel, and grant that I may humbly follow in her track!... She told Harriet Palmer (of whom she was fond) that she meant to get a guinea, and have her father’s old Bible—the little black Bible which she read every day—beautifully bound, with her initials on it, and give it to me. She told me, when _Otto_ should be performed, she wanted a guinea—but not why—and would not take it before. It shall be done, blessed saint!”