“Thou hast been purifying and disinfecting houses, they say, for the wealthy ones of the city?”

“Ay; that was our good friend’s thought.  The Lord Mayor and authorities issued general directions for this work; and Harmer suggested to me that I should print handbills offering to undertake the purging of any house entrusted to me for a fixed fee.  This I did, and have had my hands full ever since.  All the fine folks are crowding back now that the cold weather has come, but no one cares to venture within his house till it has been purified by the burning of aromatic drugs and spices.  The rich care not what they spend, so that they are sure they are free from danger.  As for the poor, they do but burn tar or pitch or sulphur; and methinks these do just as well, save that the odour which hangs about is not so grateful to the senses.  Yes, it was a happy thought of good James Harmer, and has put money in my pocket enough to enable me to undertake small building matters without borrowing.  But I trow it will be long ere any building is wanted in and about the city.  There are too many empty houses left there for that.”

“Shall I see a wondrous change there when I go back, father?”

“A change, but a wondrous small one compared to what one would suppose,” answered the father.  “All men are amazed to see how quickly the streets have filled, and how little of change there is to note in the outward aspect of things.  I had thought that half the houses would be left empty; but I think there be not more than one-eighth without inhabitants, and these are filling up apace.  To be sure, in the once crowded lanes and alleys there are far fewer people than before; but it is wonderful to see how small the change is; and life goes on just as of old.  It is as if the calamity was already half forgot!”

“Nay but, father, I trust it is not forgotten, and that men’s consciences are stirred, and that they have taken to heart the warning of God’s just anger.”

The Master Builder slightly shook his head.

“I fear not, child, I fear not.  I hear the same oaths and blasphemies, the same ribald jests and ungodly talk, as of old.  They say the Court, which has lately returned to Whitehall, is as gay and wanton as ever.  In face of the terror of death, men did resolve to amend their ways; but I fear me, that terror being past, they do but make a mock of it, and return, like the sow in Scripture, to their wallowing in the mire.”

Gertrude looked gravely sorrowful for a moment; but, on the eve of her wedding day, she could not be sorrowful long.  She and her father were enjoying a talk together before she sought her couch.  He had been unable to come earlier to see her, business matters having detained him in town.  For the past two months he had been at work with his task of purifying and setting in order the houses of the better-class people, for their return thither after the plague; and though he had sent many affectionate messages to