“Yes, praised be God, Mistress Cavendish,” answered Captain Tabor, “and with fine head winds to swell the sails and no pirates.”

“And is my new scarlet cloak safe?” cried Mistress Mary, “and my tabby petticoats and my blue brocade bodice, and my stockings and my satin shoes, and laces?”

Mistress Mary spoke with that sweetness of maiden vanity which calls for tender leniency and admiration from a man instead of contempt.  And it may easily chance that he may be as filled with vain delight as she, and picture to himself as plainly her appearance in those new fallalls.

I wondered somewhat at the length of the list, as not only Mistress Mary’s wardrobe, but those of her grandmother and sister and many of the household supplies, had to be purchased with the proceeds of the tobacco, and that brought but scanty returns of late years, owing to the Navigation Act, which many esteemed a most unjust measure, and scrupled not to say so, being secure in the New World, where disloyalty against kings could flourish without so much danger of the daring tongue silenced at Tyburn.

It had been a hard task for many planters to purchase the necessaries of life with the profits of their tobacco crop, since the trade with the Netherlands was prohibited by His Most Gracious Majesty, King Charles II, for the supply being limited to the English market, had so exceeded the demand that it brought but a beggarly price per pound.  Therefore, I wondered, knowing that many of those articles of women’s attire mentioned by Mistress Mary were of great value, and brought great sums in London, and knowing, too, that the maid, though innocently fond of such things, to which she had, moreover, the natural right of youth and beauty such as hers, which should have all the silks and jewels of earth, and no questioning, for its adorning, was not given to selfish appropriation for her own needs, but rather considered those of others first.  However, Mistress Mary had some property in her own right, she being the daughter of a second wife, who had died possessed of a small plantation called Laurel Creek, which was a mile distant from Drake Hill, farther inland, having no ship dock and employing this.  Mistress Mary might have sent some of her own tobacco crop to England wherewith to purchase finery for herself.  Still I wondered, and I wondered still more when Mistress Mary, albeit the Lord’s Day, and the penalty for such labour being even for them of high degree not light, should propose, as she did, that the goods be then and there unladen.  Then I ventured to address her, riding close to her side, that the captain and the sailors should not hear, and think that I held her in slight respect and treated her like a child, since I presumed to call her to account for aught she chose to do.

“Madam,” said I as low as might be, “do you remember the day?”

“And wherefore should I not?” asked she with a toss of her gold locks and a pout of her red lips which was childishness and wilfulness itself, but there went along with it a glance of her eyes which puzzled me, for suddenly a sterner and older spirit of resolve seemed to look out of them into mine.  “Think you I am in my dotage, Master Wingfield, that I remember not the day?” said she, “and think you that I am going deaf that I hear not the church bells?”