Part 9 (1/2)
”Good lack! 'tis not in human nature,” said Barbara, bluntly. ”If we be no Christians short of that, there be right few Christians in all the world, Mistress mine.”
”So there be,” was the reply. ”Is it not?”
”Truly, good friend, this is not in nature,” said Mrs Tremayne, gently.
”It is only in grace.”
”Then in case it so be, is there no grace?” asked Barbara in a slightly annoyed tone.
”Who am I, that I should judge?” was the meek answer. ”Yet methinks there must be less grace than nature.”
”Well!--and of Mistress Rachel, what say you?”
”Have you a care that you judge her not too harshly. She is, I know, somewhat forbidding on the outside, yet she hath a soft heart, Barbara.”
”I am thankful to hear the same, for I had not so judged,” was Barbara's somewhat acrid answer.
”Ah, she showeth the worst on the outside.”
”And for the childre? I love not yon Lucrece.--Now, Mistress Rose, have a care your cakes be well mingled, and snub not me.”
”Ah! there spake the conscience,” said Mrs Rose, laughing.
”I never did rightly understand Lucrece,” answered her daughter. ”For Margaret, she is plain and open enough; a straightforward, truthful maiden, that men may trust. But for Lucrece--I never felt as though I knew her. There is that in her--be it pride, be it shamefacedness, call it as you will--that is as a wall in the way.”
”I call it deceitfulness, Thekla,” said her mother decidedly.
”I trust not so, Mother! yet I have feared--”
”Time will show,” said Mrs Rose, filling her moulds with the compound which was to turn out _pain d'epices_.
”Mistress Blanche, belike, showeth not what her conditions shall be,”
remarked Barbara.
”She is a lovesome little maid as yet,” said Mrs Tremayne. ”Mefeareth she shall be spoiled as she groweth toward womanhood, both with praising of her beauty and too much indulging of her fantasies.”
”And now, what say you to Master Jack?” demanded Barbara in some trepidation. ”Is he like to play ugsome [ugly, disagreeable] tricks on Mrs Clare, think you?”
”Jack--ah, poor Jack!” replied Mrs Tremayne.
Barbara looked up in some surprise. Jack seemed to her a most unlikely subject for the compa.s.sionate e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.
”And dost thou marvel that I say, 'Poor Jack'? It is because I have known men of his conditions aforetime, and I have ever noted that either they do go fast to wrack, or else they be set in the hottest furnace of G.o.d's disciplining. I know not which shall be the way with Jack. But how so,--poor Jack!”
”But what deem you his conditions, in very deed?”
”Why, there is not a soul in all the village that loveth not Jack, and I might well-nigh say, not one that hath not holpen him at some pinch, whereto his reckless ways have brought him. If the lacings of satin ribbon be gone from Mistress Rachel's best gown, and the cat be found with them tied all delicately around her paws and neck, and her very tail,--'tis Jack hath done it. If Margaret go about with a paper pinned to the tail of her gown, importing that she is a thief and a traitor to the Queen's Highness,--'tis Jack hath pinned it on when she saw him not.
If some rare book from Sir Thomas his library be found all open on the garden walk, wet and ruinated,--'tis Jack. If Mistress Rachel be astepping into her bed, and find the sheets and blankets all awry, so that she cannot compa.s.s it till all is pulled in pieces and turned aright, she hath no doubt to say, 'tis Jack. And yet once I say, Poor Jack! If he be to come unto good, mefeareth the furnace must needs be heated fiercely. Yet after all, what am I, that I should say it? G.o.d hath a thousand ways to fetch His lost sheep home.”