I HAVE really put on my dress, my Lady's gentlewoman, Mistress
Warner, arranging it for me, which she did with many exclamations at
the improvement in my appearance. I must needs own that it is very
becoming, but I do not as yet feel at home therein. When all was
complete, I went to my Lady's room. She was much pleased.
"Be sure, maiden, you will lose nothing by thus giving up your will
to your father," said she, kissing my cheek: "I know very well, that
there is no vanity in your heart, but that 'tis a real taking up of
the cross, for you to leave off the dress you liked, to pleasure your
parents, and the self-denial will have its reward."
"I never thought of any self-denial!" said I.
"I dare say you did not," she answered, smiling, and arranging my hood.
I hope I shall not dislike to leave off all this finery when the time
comes for me to return to the convent. I am afraid I have begun to
dread that return already; but as my Lady says, "Sufficient unto the
time is the evil thereof." That seems to me a wondrous wise saying. I
wonder where she found it, or whether it is her own?
When I met Prudence she raised up her hands and eyes: "Lo, did I not
say as much? The silks and satins have come already—next thing my Lady
will find some needy kinsman of her own to whom my Lady Rosamond's
portion will be a convenience, and then comes a wedding—and then—Well,
well, when it comes, maybe my words will be believed."
"Maybe so!" I answered. "And maybe we shall catch larks when the sky
falls, but I doubt it."
"Mrs. Prue hates weddings because she could never get a goodman
herself!" said Master Lee, our old house steward, between whom and
Prudence is perpetual war. "For my part, I ever said Mistress Rosamond
was too good for a cloister. There are plenty of sallow cheeks and
vinegar faces, that would be all the better for a veil!"
Whereat Prudence turned on him like a fury, and I retreated from the
war of words to mine own room.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]