Mistress Penwick

"If the ship sails at dawn, then I must hasten to tell my mistress of the departure, and-of her father's letter."

"I am loath to let yonder tide take her away so soon, Janet."

"But my master's words are a positive command to leave Quebec at once," and Janet's eyes fell to the imperative line at the close of her letter which read: "In God's name, good nurse, take my baby to England in all haste."

"Aye, our noble patron's desire must be carried out!" and the Mother

Superior without further lament went from the small cell.

When the last echo of her footsteps had died away, Janet Wadham cautiously opened the inner door and passed to the cell adjoining, and to the low couch upon which lay her mistress in sound slumber.

Fondly she noted the beauty of her charge; the heavy waving hair gleaming in the fading light a bronze-like amber, the white forehead, the arched brow, the glow of health upon lip and cheek, the slender neck, the slope of shoulders, and the outline of a perfect form.

Then the maid stirred and opened her eyes. Her whole body thrilled with the awakening.

"Ah, 'twas like the bursting of a bud! How dost feel now, Mistress?"

"I am not ill at all. I am a martyr to thy imagination. Dost remember the time, Janet, I drowsed in the chapel and thou didst make me drink bitterwort for a fortnight?" and the girl's voice rung out in soft laughter.

"Aye, I have not forgotten, nor why thou wert drowsy either, Mistress

Penwick."

"Nay, thou didst not know."

"I did so. Thou hadst a book of tales and read nights with the candle shaded by thy mother's landskip fan, and I gave thee aloes for thy folly."

"Thou dost always find me out, Janet; I shall be glad when I become a woman as big as thou."

"Thou art a woman to-day, and thou wilt never be as big as I; so, having age and not a hulking servant's body, be content. I have a letter from my master, and in it is much that concerns thee-"

"Isn't there always much that concerns me?"

"But not such important concernings. He has gone on a long journey and proposes one for thee, my lambkin." Katherine raised herself in bed. "Nay, thou must not stir or I hush my tale! Thy father has provided thee with a guardian and 'tis to him I take thee. We go to England by the first boat,-nay, lay back, calm thyself or I take my wagging tongue away; if thou dost so much as stir again, I leave thee. Thou art to go to a great house over there and see grand folks with fine airs and modish dress. Wilt be glad to see outside of convent walls? 'Tis nine years since I brought thee here a babe of six, and have nursed thee well to this hour, and thy strength and health and beauty show the care given thee." She suddenly arose and went to the window to hide if possible her agitation; but when she looked forth on the snow-covered city and on beyond at the long range of forest that lay low and black against the arctic sky, she turned from the gloomy scene and went again to the couch, quickly suppressing all thoughts save those that were purely selfish: she would be glad to bid adieu to this great, still northern world and leave behind forever old Quebec, even though she must divide her treasure.

"I have been a mother to thee, child, and now I must divide my rule with a cantankerous Scot-"

"Nay, a Scot and lives in England?"

"He lives in England and thy father speaks of bending somewhat thy quick temper to the mould of self-control as a safer parry to Scotch thrust; so I conclude the gentleman must be a Scot."

"Janet, 'tis these awful men that wear skirts like women. I remember many years ago when I was in Sister Agnes' room, of seeing some of those dreadful pictures of skirts and bandy-legs. They are unseemly things for men to wear; it is as though one were uncivilised. I hate him already for it!"

"Lambkin, thou must remember thy teachings. Sister Agnes would admonish thee for saying hate. Besides thou dost not know the man, he may be a second father to thee and cajole and pamper thy whims. He may even eschew plaid frocks and don modish garments-that would hide bandy-legs still less! Thy father said I must enjoin upon thee respect, for his lordship's age; regard, for his wishes, and thou art to obey his commands, as 'twas not possible for him to direct thee otherwise than good. If at any time he should find thee in fault, be the matter seemingly beneath notice, acknowledge thy wrongness, for he hath a temper and might goad thee to greater blunder. His blood flows hot and fast, and thou must cool and swage it with thy gentle dignity. Inasmuch as thy moneys and estates are in my Lord Cedric's control, thou art to receive such income from him without question. Thy father further directs perfect submission to Lord Cedric in matters of marriage, as he will bring suitors of high degree for thy choice and thou wilt find among them a lover to thy liking." The rosy red flew into the maiden's face and she trembled with a sweet new emotion she did not understand.

"This is the first time thou hast ever spoken to me of lovers, Janet. Indeed very strange things seem to be happening to-day. I feel like a bird about to fly forth from its cradle-nest, I have forgotten how the world appears. 'Tis broad and vast; it makes me dizzy to think between these cramped walls that never seemed so narrow heretofore!" She lay for a moment in deep thought, then,-"Where didst say father journeyed?"

"He said not, but intimated 'twas a place of safety where he was happy to go from political intrigue and war, and where he shall meet friends."

"Why did he not inscribe some words to me?"

"He speaks of an epistle of welcome-and farewell to be given thee by Lord Cedric upon thy arrival in England. 'Twill give thee greater pleasure then."

"But Janet; a Scot! A blustering, red-faced Scot with petticoats! Hast ever seen one outside of pictures?"

"Aye, Lambkin, and 'twas the unseemly kilt that was the better part; for I have met a blustering red-faced Scot as thou sayest; and he was boisterous and surly, giving vent to a choleric temper by coarse oaths; and 'twas his plaid denoted a gentleman of high rank withal. The long hair that swept his shoulders was as florid as his face, as was also his flowing whiskers and mustachio, the latter being bitten short and forming a bristling fringe over a slavering mouth,-what is it, Mistress, thou art pale, has pain taken thee?"

"Nay, 'tis nausea, an awful loathing; I wish to remain here. Send at once my desires to my father. I will not go to England, Janet!"

"'Tis better thou shouldst think of something else beside my Lord Cedric, for instance, his great demesne, Crandlemar Castle, the most beautiful of his several seats; the splendid horses and equipages; and, thyself, Lambkin, think of thyself bedecked in gorgeous hued brocades; be-furbelowed in rare lace and costly furs. And thou wilt have a maid to build thy hair, tie shoulder knots and make smart ribbons and frills, and furbish bijoux and gems. And thou wilt wear perfume, and carry a nosegay and fan. And thou wilt sweep the most graceful courtesy and queen it everywhere with thy sweet graciousness. Thy father says thou shouldst become an idol to the old man's heart, as my lord is without wife or daughter."

"If his demesne be in England, 'tis but right he should become as far as possible a genuine Anglo-Saxon, and if I can turn him, I will. How soon does the boat sail?"

"Within forty-eight hours we shall be upon the sea and thou wilt have begun to whimper and bemoan its awful swell. 'Twill have more evacuating power than teeth-curtailed mustachios upon thy heretofore staunch stomach."

"Nay, I will not believe my Lord Cedric such a man; and yet thou hast drawn a picture that will be ever before me until I see him. Sister Agnes would say,-'there is a sinfulness in doubt and anxiety, inasmuch as such thoughts lash the soul to uneasiness and draw it from celestial contemplations. Think not on it!' neither will I, but rather, I will fancy the morrow's sun glinting upon myriad white-capped waves; the bosom of the ocean swelling with emotion and-didst say 'twould make me ill, Janet?"

"I am afraid of it, 'twill be glorious if thou art not; for 'tis a wonderful thing to see the rise and fall of sun and moon, and witness storms that seldom fail to lend their fearfulness to the voyagers of so long a journey."

"Wilt thou be afraid, Janet?"

"Nay, not I; 'twill be the elixir of ambrosia to breathe salt air again, and the stronger and more mist-laden the better to knock out foul exhalations sucked in these nine years from musty walls. 'Twill be sweet to have the wind rap from us the various fungi that comes from sunless chambers. Ah, a stiff breeze will rejuvenate thy fifteen years one month to a lusty, crowing infant and my forty all-seasons to a simpering wench."

"How splendid, Janet!" Katherine threw out her arms and drew a long, deep breath. "'Twill be glorious to breathe pure, free air!"

"Aye, my Lambkin, and thy chest will broaden and be larger by two good inches ere we see chalk cliffs and English waters. Thou wilt open like a rose to the sunshine of the outer world. But, we are anticipating-let us speak of the present. To-night we go to vespers for the last time, and thou must bid thy friends adieu before I tuck thee in thy cot as we arise and are off before day-dawn. Let thy farewells be briefly spoken as if thou wert to be gone but a day. 'Twas thy father's wish thou shouldst not grieve at parting with thy companions, or the Sisters or Mother. 'Tis best to leave them the remembrance of a face happy, rather than one steeped in sorrow. Say to them what thy heart dictates, but with a quick tongue and bright countenance; 'twill tend to suppress tears and numb the pain at thy heart. When thou art thus engaged I will prepare us for journeying. Wilt thou wear thy Sunday gown?"

"'Tis none too good! couldst put on a ribbon to relieve its greyness?"

"Ah, Lambkin, thou hast begun already with thy fine lady's notions! thou wilt be crying for high-heeled boots and built-up hair and stays, stays, Mistress, stays wilt be thy first cry-oh, Lambkin, thou art heavy-hearted and I am turning myself into a fool to physic thy risibles;-I wish we were upon the sea at this moment; if it were possible I should have taken thee while thou wert in sleep; but nay, I could not; for thou art a maiden grown and art plump and heavy with all. If I had taken thee so, thou wouldst have wept anyway, perhaps; for 'tis thy nature to have thy own way. 'Twould be a cross to thy father could he see thee now. I doubt not 'twould turn the Scot's bull-scaring face to ashen hues, 'tis possible-" Katherine's soft rippling laugh interrupted her, and at its sound Janet leant and kissed the maid's pink-palmed hands as they lay upon the coverlet, and taking them within her own fondled them, saying,-"And thou wilt surprise my lord and his friends by thy rare playing of the clavichord, and 'tis possible so great and wealthy a man will own a piano-forte of which we have heard so much; and mayhap thou will be presented at Court, and in great London town thou mayest see many musicians from France, for 'tis not improbable they are brought over the channel at the instance of his Majesty. Is it not grand to think of all these things, Lambkin?"

"Aye, 'tis glorious! But Janet, let me up and dress me-ah, it seems an age until the morrow!"

'Twas with greater care than usual Janet made ready her Mistress. And after sundry admonitions about cold corridors and draughts, opened the door and watched her in silence as she passed through, and down the hall to vespers. And when evening prayer was over and Katherine had gone to say adieu, Janet began to pack the chests for their early flight; her heart exultant, save for the sorrow of not seeing her master again as she believed and having some little fear of the new one she was about to encounter.