Chapter XXIII

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.