“Not so simple, my lord.  Thou hast not seen the teachings of nine years take root and spread and grow as I have.  Dost think she would allow thy Chaplain to bind thee to her?  Nay, she will be wed by none but a priest.  But she is kindly intentioned and feels sorry for thy poor Chaplain, who hath so hard a time to keep his flock together.  I look any day for her to carry in a cross and hang it behind his pulpit, then—­then he will faint away from fright of her.”

“Nay, Janet, he will fall down and worship it, and—­her.”

CHAPTER VII

THE BRANTLE

Mistress Penwick sat in her chamber, trying to calm herself to reason; for the chest had come from London-town laden with splendid raiment; all had been unpacked and examined, and ’twas enough to cure all grievances, the very sight of such adornings; but her ladyship was disappointed that there were no stays.  Janet for the time was distraught and said: 

“I would that had been sent that would mend thy untowardness and bring thy temper to a comelier mould.  ’Tis past time for thee to clothe thyself in that in which thy noble lord hath seen fit to purchase for thee; I heard some moments since the arrival of the hunters and it’s time—­” There was a sounding rap and ’twas his Lordship’s lackey begging the admittance of his master.  Janet bade Lord Cedric enter.  He came forth in riding-coat and field boots and rattling spurs.  Mistress Penwick vouchsafed a nod of recognition and turned her eyes away.  The hot blood mounted Cedric’s face and at a look at Janet understood all was not well; he essayed to speak with coolness: 

“Art not happy with the contents of thy chest, Kate?”

“’Tis more than one could expect, but—­sadly it lacked that I wished for most—­a thing that marks one as lady and not child in grown-up people’s clothes.”

“And what might that be, Kate?” for indeed he had forgotten about her order that stays be sent.

“Simple, modest, commonplace stays, my lord,” and she said it slowly and with a mighty air.

“Nay, nay—­stays they did forget?” and he stamped his foot in seeming wrath and broke forth:—­“I’ll thrash that damned lackey blue for so forgetting!” and he turned as if to quit the room, but Mistress Penwick ran to stay his hurry.

“Nay, thou wilt not hurt him, ’twas not his fault, ’twas not by his hand the order was writ.”  And Cedric feigned further show of temper, and Katherine’s tapering fingers ventured upon either lapel of his lordship’s velvet coat, and he turned red and white and could hardly contain himself with delight.  Janet, fearing a confusion of her master’s words, put forth her arms and drew away Katherine’s hands and said, softly: 

“His Lordship will not thrash the lad, if thou wilt don thy most beautiful frock and forget the stays.”

“That will I, if ’tis his desire; and—­” she looked up into his Lordship’s face with a look that was almost tender—­“thou wilt say no word to the boy?” His voice was soft and pleading as he answered: