Part 15 (1/2)

”Is not he a das.h.i.+ng lad for a Puritan?” she gasped, patting her ample chest with both hands as if to fondle her newly recovered breath. Tiffany, who was bearing her mistress's lute, shrugged and pouted.

”I see little to like in him,” she snapped. This was not at all true, but she was not going to admit as much to Mistress Satch.e.l.l, or, for that matter, to herself. Mistress Satch.e.l.l snorted fiercely, like an offended war-horse.

”Because he has not clipped you round the waist, pinched you in the cheek, kissed you on the lips--such liberties as our rufflers use.

But he is a man for my money.”

She spoke with vehemence. Pretty Tiffany made a dainty grimace as she answered:

”I think I am pleasing enough to behold, yet he gave me no more than a glance when he gave me good-day.”

Mistress Satch.e.l.l's ample bulk swayed with indignation.

”He is a lad of taste, I tell you. Why should he waste his gaze on such small goods when there was n.o.bler ware anigh? He smiled all over his face when he greeted me.”

Tiffany was sorely tempted to smile all over her face as she listened, but Mistress Satch.e.l.l's temper was short and her arm long, so she kept her countenance as she answered, shortly:

”He is little.”

This Mistress Satch.e.l.l swiftly countered with the affirmation:

”He is great.”

Tiffany thrust again.

”He is naught.”

Again Dame Satch.e.l.l parried.

”He is much,” she screamed, and her face was poppy-red with pa.s.sion, but Tiffany, retreating warily and persistent to tease, was about to start some fresh disclaimer of the Puritan's merits when she caught sight through a yew arch vista of a gown of gold and gray, and her tongue faltered.

”Our lady,” she whispered to Mistress Satch.e.l.l, who had barely time to compose her ruffled countenance when Brilliana came through the yew arch and paused on the edge of the pleasaunce surveying the belligerents with an amused smile.

”What are you two brawling about?” she asked, as she moved slowly towards the marble seat. Tiffany thrust in the first word.

”Goody Satch.e.l.l will vex me with praise of the Parliament man.”

By this time Brilliana had seated herself, observing her vehement shes with amus.e.m.e.nt. She turned a face of a.s.sumed gravity upon the elder.

”So, so, Mistress Satch.e.l.l, have you turned Roundhead all of a sudden?”

Mrs. Satch.e.l.l shook her head at Brilliana and her fist at Tiffany.

”Tiffany is a minx, but I am an honest woman; and as I am an honest woman, there are honest qualities in this honest Puritan.”

Brilliana knew as much herself and fretted at the knowledge. It cut against the grain of her heart to admit that a rebel could have any redemption by gifts. But she still questioned Mistress Satch.e.l.l smoothly, thinking the while of a man intrenched behind a table, one man against six.

”What are these marvels?” she asked.

Mistress Satch.e.l.l was voluble of collected encomiums.