_Aug. 20._
THIS morning my father and mother called me to a conference. I knew my
Lord had been with them, and went thinking of nothing more important
then perhaps that my Lady desired me to stay with her; but saw at once
by their faces that there was more in the matter than that. My mother
bade me to a seat beside her, and then my father said:
"Rosamond, here has been my Lord proposing—asking—" then turning to my
mother: "Madam, do you be spokesman—I am a fool, and that is the whole
on't!"
"My Lord has been proposing a match for you, daughter, and your father
wishes to know your mind before giving him an answer. Richard Stanton
wishes to make you his wife, and my Lord also desires the match."
"You see, Dick is the next in succession, and my Lady is very frail,"
added my father, "so 'tis proper and right that Dick should marry.
It seems, however, that Master Dick will have nobody but his country
cousin, after all the fair ladies he has seen at court and abroad, and
my Lord thinks he could not do better."
I was covered with confusion, and could hardly look up.
"Well, what say you, chick?" asked my father. "Wilt wed Dick Stanton,
and live here at home? You might doubtless make a richer and greater
match, for even if my Lady should not recover, my Lord is of an age to
marry again, and with my aunt's estate for a portion, you will not go
begging. But we all know and like Dick, who is good and true as the
day, and not so badly portioned either for a younger son; besides that,
my Lord will give him the estate of Coombe Ashton, if he weds to his
liking. So what say you, daughter, for all rests with you? I will wed
no child of mine against her will."
I managed to murmur that I had no wish to oppose the will of my parents
and my kinsman; whereat my mother bent down and kissed my brow, saying
with a little gentle mischief:
"See you, Sir Stephen, what a dutiful child we have here!"
"Aye, well broke, as old Job's horse, which would always go well on the
road homeward," said my father, smiling. "But what think you my Lady
Abbess will say, my Rose?"
"I fear she will be grieved," I answered; "but I could not have
returned to her, at any rate. Sister Catherine will say it is just what
she always expected!"
"I dare say she would fly at the chance herself, the old cat!" said
my father. "Well, Rosamond, I am heartily glad your choice jumps so
well with ours in this matter, for though I would have preferred Dick
above many a richer and greater suitor, I would never wed a child
of mine against her will. I saw enough of that in mine own mother's
case, who lived and died a broken-hearted woman; aye, and that though
my father would have coined his very heart's blood to save her. She
was a model of wifely duty and reverence too, poor Lady, but the one
thing my father longed for, that she could never give. Well, well! God
bless thee, child, with all my heart: thou bast ever been a dutiful
daughter to me and to her that is gone. Well, I must go see my Lord
and Dick, who is pacing the maze like a caged lion. There will be need
of a dispensation, and I know not what, beside the settlements for our
heiress here. What think you, chick? Does Dick seek you for the sake of
Aunt Rosamond's acres and woods?"
"Not he!" answered my mother for me. "One must have been an owl indeed
not to see how matters were long before Rosamond had any title to
acres or woods. I had a shrewd guess at it before ever I saw Rosamond
herself, when our young squire used to linger beside me in London to
talk of his cousin, when others were dancing. I thought then it would
be a shame for the cloister to part two true lovers."
I could not but rejoice in my heart when I heard this, that Richard had
preferred talking of me, even when his love must have been well-nigh
hopeless, to dancing with those court ladies of whom Mistress Anne told
me. I never did believe a word she said, the treacherous viper!
All this chanced only this very morning, and already it seems ages
agone. Dick and I have had a long talk together down at the spring,
where we used to have so many. How that place used to haunt my dreams
in the convent! Father Fabian said 'twas a temptation of the devil, and
I never would let my mind dwell on it in the day-time; but I could not
hinder its coming back at night.
As we sat on our old moss-grown seat by the clear well, we saw a
chaffinch—perhaps the very one Dick showed me on the eve of Alice's
marriage—flying in and out among the bushes with its young brood. I
took it for a good omen.
As we sat there, gazing down into the spring, a shadow fell on us, and
looking up, there was Patience, my mother's bower-woman.
"So it has come to this, even as I said!" said she, with no form of
greeting.
"Not quite!" I answered. "You said my mother would wed me with a
kinsman of her own."
"So it has come to this!" she repeated again, paying no heed to my
words. "You, Mistress Rosamond, who were consecrated before you were
born, and wore the veil in your very cradle—you are returned to the
world, even as your mother did before you!" Then changing her tone,
and falling on her knees at my feet: "Oh, Mistress Rosamond, don't!
For love of your own soul, don't go to throw yourself away thus—don't
bring down wrath and shame on your head, and doom your mother's soul
to endless woe! I know you don't love me, and maybe you have small
cause; but I loved your mother, and I nursed you when a fair babe. Oh,
Mistress Rosamond, think before it is too late!"
The woman was fairly convulsed with sobs.
"Nay, Prue, why should I bring woe on my head by obeying my father?"
said I. "I never was professed, so I break no vows, and why cannot I
serve God as well in the married state, which was that of Saint Peter
himself, as in a convent? St Peter was married, and so was St. James,
and what was good enough for them should be for me, surely."
"And St. Paul says, marriage is honorable in all—remember that,
Prudence!" says Dick. "And when our Lord was on earth, he went to a
wedding and turned the water into wine for the poor folks."
"I don't believe it!" says Prue.
"Then you don't believe the Gospels, and that is worse than being
married," answered Dick, gayly; and with more of his old mischief
than I have seen in him for a long time. "Come, Prue, be a reasonable
woman, and here's a good Harry gold piece to buy you a new gown for the
wedding."
"I shall never see that wedding!" said she, never noticing the money he
held out to her. "I have warned you and entreated you, and all in vain.
Your blood be on your own heads, if you persevere! Only remember, when
the stroke comes, that I warned you!"
And with that she turned away and left us.
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