"Well, I never heard no such a thing!" crieth she. "To send a letter to _London_ from _c.u.mberland_, and have back an answer in nine days!"

"'Tis uncommon rapid, surely," saith _Father_. "Well, _Walter_, my boy--for thine eyes ask the question, though thy tongue be still--my Lord of _Oxenford_ hath loosed thee from thine obligations, yet he speaks very kindlily of thee, as of a servant [Note 3] whom he is right sorry to lose."

"You told him, _Father_,"--and _Wat_ brake off short.

"I told him, my lad," saith _Father_, laying of his hand upon _Walter's_ shoulder, "that I did desire to have thee to dwell at home a season: and moreover that I heard divers matters touching the Court ways, which little liked me."

"Was that all, _Aubrey_?" asks Aunt _Joyce_.

"Touching the cause thereof? Ay."

Then _Walter_ breaks forth, with that sudden, eager way he hath, which Aunt _Joyce_ saith is from _Mother_.

"_Father_, I have not deserved such kindness from you! But I do desire to say one thing--that I can see now it is better I were thence, though it was sore trouble to me at the first: and (G.o.d helping me) I will endeavour myself to deserve better in the future than I have done in the past."

_Father_ held forth his hand, and _Wat_ put his in it.

"G.o.d helping thee, my son," saith he gravely. "I do in very deed trust the same. Yet not without it, _Walter_!"

Somewhat like an hour thereafter, when Aunt _Joyce_ and I were alone, she saith all suddenly, without a word of her thoughts aforetime--

"Ay, the lad is his father's son, after all. If he only could learn to spell _Nay_!"

Note 1. The reader is requested to remember that these sums must be multiplied by fifteen, to arrive at the equivalents in the present day.

Note 2. Paternoster Row was the Regent Street of Elizabeth's reign.

Note 3. The word servant was much more loosely used in the sixteenth century than at present. Any lady or gentleman, however well born and educated, in receipt of a salary from an employer, was termed a servant.

The Queen's Maids of Honour were in service, and their stipends were termed wages.

CHAPTER TEN.

IN DEEP PLACES.

"So I go on, not knowing-- I would not, if I might.

I would rather walk in the dark with G.o.d Than go alone in the light: I would rather walk with Him by faith Than go alone by sight."

Philip Bliss.

(_In Edith's handwriting_.)

SELWICK HALL, MARCH THE XVII.

Helen's birthday. She is this morrow of the age of seven-and-twenty years, being eldest of all us save _Anstace_. _Alice Lewthwaite_ counts it mighty late to tarry unwed, but I do mis...o...b.. of mine own mind if _Helen_ ever shall wed with any.

From _Father_ she had gift of a new prayer-book, with a chain to hang at her girdle: and from _Mother_ a comely fan of ostrich feathers, with a mirror therein set; likewise with a silver chain to hang from the girdle. Aunt _Joyce_ shut into her hand, in greeting of her, five gold _Spanish_ ducats,--a handsome gift, by my troth! But 'tis ever Aunt _Joyce's_ way to make goodly gifts. My Lady _Stafford_ did give a pair of blue sleeves, [Note 1] broidered in silver, whereon I have seen her working these weeks past. Mistress _Martin_, a pair of lovesome white silk stockings [Note 2]. Sir _Robert_, a silver pouncet-box [a kind of vinaigrette] filled with scent. _Anstace_, a broidered girdle of black silk; and _Hal_, a comfit-box with a little gilt spoon. _Milisent_, two dozen of silver b.u.t.tons; and I, a book of the _Psalms_, the which I wist _Helen_ desired to have (cost me sixteen pence). _Ned_ diverted us all by making her present of a popinjay [parrot], the which he brought with him, and did set in care of _Faith Murthwaite_ till _Nell's_ birthday came. And either _Faith_ or _Ned_ had well trained the same, for no sooner came the green cover off his cage than up goeth his foot to his head, with--

"Good morrow, Mistress _Nell_, and much happiness to you!"

All we were mighty taken [amused] with this creature, and I count _Ned_ had no cause to doubt if _Helen_ were pleased or no. Last came _Walter_, which bare in his hand a right pretty box of walnut-wood, lined of red taffeta, and all manner of cunning divisions therein.

Saith he--

"_Helen_, dear heart, I would fain have had a better gift to offer thee, but being in the conditions I am, I thought it not right for me to spend one penny even on a gift. Howbeit, I have not spared labour nor thought, and I trust thou wilt accept mine offering, valueless though it be, for in very deed it cometh with no lesser love than the rest."

"Why, _Wat_, dear heart!" crieth _Nell_, her cheeks all flushing, "dost think that which cost money, should be to me so much as half the value of thine handiwork, that had cost thee thought and toil! Nay, verily!

thou couldst have given me nought, hadst thou spent forty pound, that should have been more pleasant unto me. Trust me, thy box shall be one of my best treasures so long as I do live, and I give thee hearty thanks therefor."

_Walter_ looked right pleased, and saith he, "Well, in very deed I feared thou shouldst count it worth nought, for even the piece of taffeta to line the same I asked of _Mother_."

"Nay, verily, not so!" saith she, and kissed him.

To say _Wat_ were last, howbeit, I writ not well, for I forgat _Mynheer_, and Cousin _Bess_, the which I should not.

Cousin _Bess_ marcheth up to _Nell_ with--"Well, my maid, thou hast this morrow many goodlier gifts than mine, yet not one more useful. 'Tis plain and solid, like me." And forth she holdeth a parcel which, being oped, did disclose a right warm thick hood of black serge, lined with flannel and dowlas, mighty comfortable-looking. _Mynheer_ cometh up with a courtesy and a sc.r.a.pe that should have beseemed a n.o.ble of the realm, and saith he--

"Mistress _Helena Van Louvaine_--for that is your true name, as I am a.s.sured of certainty--I, a _Dutchman_, have the great honour and pleasure to offer unto you, a _Dutch_ vrouw, a most precious relic of your country, being a stool for your feet, made of willow-wood that groweth by the great d.y.k.e which keepeth off from _Holland_ the waters of the sea. 'Tis true, you be of the _Nether-Land_, and this cometh of the _Hollow-Land_--for such do the names mean. Howbeit, do me the favour, _Domina mea_, to accept this token at the hands of your obeissant _paedagogus_, that should have had much pleasure in learning you the _Latin_ tongue, had it been the pleasure of your excellent elders.

Alack that it were not so! for I am a.s.sured your scholarship should have been rare, and your attention thereto of the closest."

_Nell_ kept her countenance (which was more than _Ned_ or _Milly_ could do), and thanked _Mynheer_ right well, ensuring him that she should essay to make herself worthy of the great honour of coming of _Dutch_ parentage.

Saith _Father_ drily, "There is time yet, _Mynheer_."

"For what?" saith he. "To learn Mistress _Helena_ the _Latin_?

Excellent Sir, you rejoice me. When shall we begin, Mistress _Helena_?--this morrow?"

_Helen_ laughed now, and quoth she,--"I thank you much, _Mynheer_, though I am 'feared you reckon mine understanding higher than it demerit: yet I fear there shall scantly be opportunity this morrow. I have divers dishes to cook that shall be cold for this even, and a deal of flannel-work to do."

"Ah, the dishes and the flannel, they are mine abhorrence!" saith _Mynheer_. "They stand alway in the road of the learning."

"Nay, mine old _paedagogus_!" crieth _Ned_. "I reckon the dishes are little your abhorrence at supper-time, nor the flannel of a cold night, when it taketh the form of blankets. 'Tis right well to uphold the learning, yet without _Nell's_ cates and flannel, your _Latin_ should come ill off."

"The body is ever in the way of the soul!" saith _Mynheer_. "Were we souls without bodies, what need had we of the puddings and the flannels?"

"Or the _Latin_," sticketh in _Ned_, mischievously.

_Mynheer_ wagged his head at _Ned_.

"_Edward Van Louvaine_, thou wist better."

"Few folks but know better than they do, _Mynheer_," saith _Ned_. "Yet think you there shall be lexicons needed to talk with King _David_ or the Apostle _Paul_ hereafter?"

"I trow not," saith _Father_.

"Dear heart, Master _Stuyvesant_," cries Cousin _Bess_, "but sure the curse of _Babel_ was an ill thing all o'er! You would seem to count it had a silver side to it."

"It had a golden side, my mistress," made he answer. "Had all men ever spoken but one tongue, the _paedagogus_ should scarce be needed, and half the delights of learning had disappeared from the earth."