Chapter XXXVII: 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.