It was mighty pleasant to me to be with my Cousin Dorothy.  She had changed her riding clothes into others more suitable for a country maid—­with a white starched neckerchief that came down upon her shoulders, and a grey dress and petticoat below that.  Her sleeves were short, as the custom is in the country, with great linen cuffs folded back upon them, so as to leave her hands and arms to the elbow free for her occupations.  But most of all I loved her simplicity and her quietness and her discretion.  Her father bade her expressly to shew me all the house; or she would not have done it, for she was very maidenly and modest; but as soon as he said that, she did it without affectation.  She shewed me the parlour too, with the hangings upon the walls, and the chapel of the Grail, with the Grail itself upon an altar within, flanked by two candlesticks, that was represented over the fire-place.  She came out with me too to shew me the bakehouse where the baking was already begun, and the brewhouse—­both of which too were all built of timber and plaster; and there my Cousin Tom came upon us, and carried me off to see his garden and his pasture; for he farmed a few acres about here, and made a good profit out of it:  and it was while I walked with him that for the first time I understood what his intention was towards me.

He was speaking, as he very often did, of his daughter Dorothy—­which I had taken to be a father’s affection only. (We were walking at the time up and down in the pasture below the garden; and the house lay visible among the gardens, very fair and peaceful with the sunlight upon it.)

“She will be something of an heiress,” he said; “and when I say that, I do not mean that she will have as many acres as yourself.  But she will have near a thousand pound a year so soon as poor Tom Jermyn dies:  and I may die any day, for I am short in the neck, and might very well be taken with an apoplexy.  I wish above all things then, to see her safely married before I go—­to some solid man who will care for her.  There is a plenty of Protestants about here that would have her; for she is a wonderful housewife, and as pure as Diana too.”

He paused at that; and looked at me in that cunning way of his that I misliked so much.  Yet even now I did not see what he would be at; for gentlemen do not usually fling their daughters at the head of any man; and he knew nothing of me but that I was pretty rich and would be more so one day.  But I suppose that that was enough for him.

“I had thought at one time,” he went on, “of sending her to Court.  I could get her in, under the protection of my Lady Arlington.  But the Court is no place for a maiden who knows nothing of the world.  What would you advise, Cousin Roger?  I would not have her marry a Protestant, if I could help it.”

And with that he looked at me again.