Part 34 (1/2)

”The goose told me herself,” said Philippa bluntly, with a short laugh.

”'Twas not in a civil fas.h.i.+on, Thekla. She said Arthur was good enough for Clare; it recked not whom Clare wedded withal. Marry come up! if I had not let mine head govern mine hands, I had fetched her a good crack on the crown with my staff. It could ne'er have hurt her brain--she has none. What were such women born for, do all the saints wit?--without it were to learn other folk patience.”

Thekla Tremayne was a woman, and a mother. She would have been more than human if she had not felt hurt for this insult to her boy. Was Clare, or anything else in the world, too good for her one darling?

”Come,--swallow it, Thekla, and have done,” said Philippa. ”And by way of a morsel of sugar at after the wormwood, I will tell thee I do not think Clare hates him. I studied her face.”

”Mistress Philippa, you read faces so rarely, I would you could read Lucrece Enville. Margaret, which is eldest of the three, is plain reading; I conceive her conditions [understand her disposition] well.

But Lucrece hath posed me ever since I knew her.”

”I will lay thee a broad s.h.i.+lling, child, I read her off like thou shouldst a hornbook when I see her. Ay, I have some skill touching faces: I have been seventy years at the work.”

That evening, just before supper, the indefatigable old lady marched into the hall at Enville Court. Lady Enville introduced her to Sir Thomas and Mistress Rachel, and presented her step-daughters and Jack.

Philippa made her private comments on each.

”A worthy, honest man--not too sharp-sighted,” she said of Sir Thomas to herself. ”And a good, sound-hearted woman”--of Mistress Rachel. ”There is a pickie, or I mistake,” greeted Jack. ”This is Margaret, is it?

Clear as crystal: not deep, but clear. But this face”--as Lucrece came before her--”is deep enough. Not deep like a river, but like a snake.

I could do well enough with your plain, honest sister; but I love you not, Mistress Lucrece. Enville. Your graceful ways do not captivate me. Ah! it takes a woman to know a woman. And the men, poor silly things! fancy they know us better than we do each other.”

If Philippa had spoken that last sentiment audibly, she would have won the fee-simple of Rachel Enville's heart.

”Sir Thomas,” said Philippa, when they rose from supper, ”when it may stand with your conveniency, I would fain have an half-hour's talk with you.”

Sir Thomas was ready enough to confer with the old lady, whom he liked, and he led her courteously to his wife's boudoir. Lady Enville sat down in her cus.h.i.+oned chair, and made a screen of her fan.

”Sir Thomas,” began Philippa bluntly, ”I would fain wit what you and Orige mean to do with Clare? Forgive my asking; I love the child for her grandame's sake.”

”Good Mistress, you be full welcome to ask the same. But for me, I know not how to answer, for I never took any thought thereupon. Hadst thou thought thereon, Orige?”

”I counted her most like to wed with Arthur Tremayne,” said Lady Enville carelessly.

”I ne'er thought of him,” remarked Sir Thomas.

”If it be so, good,” said Philippa. ”I have looked the lad o'er, and I am satisfied with him. And now, I pray you, take one more word from an old woman, of your gentleness. What do you with Blanche?”

In answer to this question--for Philippa was well known to Sir Thomas by repute, and he was prepared to trust her thoroughly--the whole story of Don Juan came out. Philippa sat for a minute, looking thoughtfully into the fire.

”Have a care of yonder maid,” she said.

”But what fas.h.i.+on of care, Mistress Ba.s.set? An' you grant it me, I would value your thought thereupon.”

Philippa turned to Sir Thomas.

”Have you not,” she said, ”made somewhat too much of this matter? Not that it was other than grave, in good sooth; yet methinks it had been better had you not let Blanche see that you counted it of so much import. I fear she shall now go about to count herself of mighty importance. Childre do, when you make much of their deeds; and Blanche is but a child yet, and will so be for another year or twain. Now this young man is safe hence, I would say, Fetch her home. And let none ever name the matter afore her again; let bygones be bygones. Only give her to see that you account of her as a silly child for the past, but yet that you have hope she shall be wiser in the future.”

”Well, herein I see not with you,” said Lady Enville. ”I had thought it rare good fortune for Blanche to wed with Don John.”

Sir Thomas moved uneasily, but did not answer. Philippa turned and looked at the speaker.