Chapter XXXVIII: Aug. 30—the day after

THE formalities are all arranged, and to-morrow I shall be a wedded wife. The matter has been hurried for Harry's sake, because he must sail so soon, and also because my Lord will take my Lady to her own old home, which she yearns to see again. Perhaps they may also go abroad in search of a milder climate, though the disturbed state of affairs makes that doubtful.

We are to keep house at the Court till they return, and then go to our own house at Coombe Ashton. I would like to live awhile at least at Tremador, for my heart is drawn to my people there, and perhaps we shall do so. I am glad my mother has Joyce, who gains on our hearts every day. She is very loving and easily swayed, though, as was to be expected, she has many faults, the worst of which, in my mother's eyes and mine, is a want of truth. If she commits any fault or meets any mishap, she will lie to hide it.

My mother says it is just what she should expect in any one so severely handled as Joyce has been, and she believes it may be overcome by kindness and wise treatment: and she did yesterday come to my mother, bringing a drinking glass she had broken. Nobody saw her do it, and the mishap might have been laid on that universal scape-goat, the cat; so we think it a hopeful sign.

She was overwhelmed with grief when she found I was going away as well as Harry, and I could hardly pacify her by promises of visits and what not. She would fain have bestowed on me her greatest treasure, the Spanish cat, bringing it in her arms with her eyes running over with tears: but I showed her that 'twould be unkind to Cousin Joslyn to part with his present, and that Puss would be unhappy away from her, and proposed instead, that as she can really spin wonderful well, she should make me some hanks of fine woollen thread for my knitting; whereat she was comforted. She is a dear maid, all the more engaging from her odd blending of the young child and the woman.

There are only two things to make me at all uncomfortable. One is that I have had a most sad and reproachful letter from dear Mother Superior. She regards my marriage as nothing less than sacrilege, and implores me to cast off my betrothed husband and return to the arms of my Heavenly Spouse who will receive me even now; and if I am faithful in penance and prayer, may make me all the brighter saint for this sacrifice.

But that is not the worst of it. She says she has heard that both my step-dame and Lady Stanton are infected with the new doctrine. She says that she has it from a sure hand that my mother was in London a constant associate of my Lady Denny and other well-known heretics, and was believed to have sent relief both in money and food to heretics under sentence in the common prisons. She lays all my apostasy, as she calls it, to the account of my Lady Corbet, and implores me to fly from the tyranny and ill-guidance of my cruel step-dame to the arms of my true Mother.

I must own that I shed some tears over this letter, remembering ancient kindness, and grieving over the grief of the dear Mother who was ever kind to me, even when I was under a cloud concerning the affair of Amice Crocker; but it has not shaken my determination one whit. I believe (besides what I owe to my espoused husband), I am in the plain path of duty in obeying my natural born father. Seeing the truth as I do now, returning to the convent would be one of two things—either going into a regular course of hypocrisy and denying of the truth in every word and action, or it would be going straight to disgrace, imprisonment, and perhaps a dreadful death! The very foundations of mine ancient life were shaken by Amice Crocker's death and the circumstances attendant thereon, and they have been utterly ruined and pulled down by what I have since heard and read for myself in Holy Scripture. I cannot build them again if I would, and I would not if I could. As to my mother's promise concerning me, 'twas made in ignorance, and I do not believe she would now desire me to fulfil it. I could not do it, even if I were not promised to Richard. I can honestly say that I have tried to decide rightly, and I believe I have done so. My mind is at ease, so far as that is concerned.

The other thing which troubles me is that Harry must leave us the very day after the wedding. I think his desire for the voyage hath suffered some diminution of late, specially since Joyce has come to live with us: but he hath too much of my father in him to give up lightly any purpose he hath gravely formed. He hath grown much more manly and serious of late. His whole collection of pets—dogs, horses, the old donkey, the peacock, and all, he hath consigned to Joyce—all save the old bloodhound, which will follow nobody but himself and my mother.

My father hath given me a beautiful Spanish genet, and another horse for my own riding, with all new furniture for the same. I have half my own mother's clothes and jewels, and great store of new garments and ornaments from my parents and my Lady, and a cupboard of plate, far too fine for a simple squire's dame, from my Lord.

Captain Hawkins came yesterday and brought me a piece of beautiful silk stuff from the Levant, and two fine carpets, soft almost as velvet, and of the richest colors. He says in the East, and even in Venice, they use these beautiful carpets on their floors, which seems a mighty waste.

Master Jasper Ellenwood gave me a Venice gold chain, and a drinking glass in a case, with other conveniences. He is a fine, grave gentleman, and I have learned much from him about ways of living abroad, specially in Holland, which country must be a kind of paradise of good housekeepers. It is even true that they use no rushes on their floors, which are scoured two or three times a week, and many even of the common houses have glass windows. By this neatness they escape many plagues in the shape of vermin, specially fleas; but I should think such constant washing and dampness would breed rheums and fevers.

I must not forget another of his presents, a beautiful cup made of a kind of fine pottery ware, only much harder and lighter than any of our pottery, and ornamented with painting and gilding which will not wash off, but are in the very substance of the ware. He says these dishes are brought from Cathay, where even the common people use them for eating, and also for drinking a kind of broth of certain dried herbs, which makes a great part of their living. Poor diet, methinks, which would hardly content Englishmen, though Master Jasper says 'tis a healthful and refreshing drink.

It is really a wonderful thing to see a man who has been in Cathay and the Indies. Richard has asked him to visit us by-and-by, and he has promised. His advice has been of great use to my Lady, and though he could not save the poor babe, his constant care of the child has endeared him greatly to the family, so that my Lord would fain have him take up his abode with them.

There is a rumor afloat, which nobody can trace, that a pirate vessel hath been seen on the coast hereabouts, but my father and Captain Hawkins do not think it true. Still there are many lurking-places on these wild shores, where such a vessel might hide, and it behooves us all to be careful. Master Ellenwood says he has seen English boys and girls sold as slaves in the Bagnios of Constantinople and Egypt.