_August 2._
I MET Mrs. Bullen in the garden this morning, and was passing her with
a grave salutation, when she stopped me.
"So, Mistress Rosamond, you have well requited my good-nature. A fine
lecture I have had from my mistress and your starched Lady Abbess! I am
beholden to you for bringing me into disgrace, and I will remember it,
I assure you!"
I told her that I had not meant to bring her into disgrace, and was
sorry that I had done so—that I had had no choice about showing the
package, which had brought me into danger of disgrace and punishment as
well.
"Well, well!" said she, lightly. "I meant you a kindness, and nothing
more. I dare say Cousin Richard will easily console himself. There are
plenty of fair ladies about the French court who will not scorn the
favor of a handsome young Englishman. I would I were back there myself,
for this English court is triste and dull enow, even without keeping
retreats in this grim old jail. As to my Lady Abbess, let her look to
her reign and enjoy it while she can. There is thunder abroad in the
air, and who knows where it will strike!"
"Do you mean this Lutheran heresy?" I asked. "Surely the King does not
favor it, and the Queen abhors it."
"O yes, the Queen abhors it!" said she, catching up my words with a
mocking tone. "And doubtless her Grace's influence is all powerful with
his Majesty. Nevertheless, it did not prevail to save the convents
which yonder proud cardinal put down the other day. But why should I
say these things to you? You are but a doll, like all nuns—a puppet
that must needs dance as your strings are pulled."
"Then if I am a puppet, I will strive to be an obedient one," said I;
"methinks a puppet would do little, setting up for itself."
She laughed at the conceit, in her pretty, merry way.
"Well, well, 'tis no use to be angry with you, I see, and if you
brought me into a scrape, I did the same by you, so we are even. As
for Cousin Richard, he will soon console himself, as I said. Country
cousins will be of little account with him when he sees the fair
damsels that cluster round the French Queen. No disparagement to you,
fair Rosamond!"
So we parted, good friends enough; but I cannot but be vexed with
myself for dwelling on her words. What is it to me whether Richard
consoles himself or not? I hope his simpleness will not be befooled,
that is all. If I could have read his letter I might have guessed—but
what am I saying?
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[Illustration]