Penshurst Castle
faire and fresh
ad and solemne
thought constrained
en
me, I pray you, go down to the lych gat
the wheaten cake you would fain carry with you. Rest quietly at home; it may be Humphrey will
ways on this hilltop, with naught to see and naught to do; with no company but a cross-grained stepmother, and the cows
taining hand on her yo
your discretion. Am I not one who has a right to caution you? I
hat I should do the same. Trust me, good sister. I may be young, bu
s earnestness, grew even more mournful than was its wont, as she l
net you speak of is not spread in the sight o
uick, warm embrace, and then she was off, with the bas
-bye! I'll be b
ight figure as it tripped away, and then was turning into th
of milk to set for cream in the pans, and the cakes
ot reply to the qu
dairy, mother, and
schief. No, no; it's Lucy's work, and she shall do it. It will
ard, as little feet pattered alo
child said. 'I saw her
Mrs Forrester said wrathfully, 'to let her go, Mary, and cheat me by not tellin
ace flushed crim
ter, when he is not here to defend her. Come with m
small fists, and said, app
ill you if you make mo
y. 'It is near thy bedtime. Come with me; nor forget
putting her arm round the child, she led him up the narrow stairs leading from the large kitchen to the room above, where she
een amongst the trees, now golden in the brilliant western sunshine of the spring evening. Perhaps there can scarcely be found a more enchanting prospect than that on which Mary G
CHURCH A
to see safe under the shelter of a good man's love-it was hard that her boy should hear such words from those pitiless lips-'lead her to r
lay quiet with his head on his mother's breast, in that blissful state of contentme
e hide the symmetry of his rounded limbs, and the large ruff, now much crumpled after the day's wear, set off to
boy s
don't put m
sat on, the boy's red-gold curls making a gleam of brightness o
y the bo
ey let me be his esquire? Aunt Lou s
ary said, pressing the child closer. 'And he woul
t upright,
iffe comes back to his mother, but I'd like
y boy, all i
le, and-oh! a hundred things. I wis
learned, my son; but come, the sun is
r from the pure white brow, where the blue veins were clearly traced, and Ambrose knelt at
e a good man, like
hich stood against the wall in the dark, low room. The old woman's thanks were not very profuse, hers was by no means a grateful disposition, and, perhaps, there was no great inducement for Lucy to prolong her visit. However that might be, it was very short, and she was soon outside again, and stan
crossed by a thick white kerchief, edged with lace. Lucy's slender neck was set
edged with gold, was set upon it, and contrasted well with the bright locks, from which a curl,
e or wait for a few minutes longer, a man, with the badge of the Sidneys on his arm, cam
l see Humphrey, and he will tell me if Mr Sydney is returning this evenin
. He was hailed by one of the loiterers in the stre
He is gone round by the main ent
d see him. Humphrey is so dull, and he won't ask him to do what I want. I
r dismounted, and, throwing the reins of his h
food to the hungry. Wh
the hill with you. Lucy, does Mist
ase myself; tell me, Humphr
for the great tournament at Whiteh
tilt. I would walk to London to see it, if I can't ride. There is
d to spare. Her Majesty the Queen has desired delay
s hope. I shall go to Lady Mary
ill be full of fears about you. I marvel that you
aid. 'I love Mary better than all the
Ratclif
re. In sober earnest, Lucy, you are too fair to
the park, and then yo
see you over the river, at least. Then I must return, t
narrow plank, with a handrail on one side only. When the river was low, it was easy to cross the ford, but, when swollen by
all Humphrey's offers of help with a merry laugh, they were joined by Hu
Lucy!' he cried. 'Mist
nary swiftness, Lucy sprang from stone to stone, and, reachi
leasure
your limbs in peril by scaling those s
od-bye, Humphrey,' she called, waving her han
ge will take care of you now.
l speed, and her faithful squire had much diffi
breathless, when, at the turn on the side of
ing. 'Why, Master Ratcliffe, you are puffing like old Meg w
stress Fo
stop. Well, pray thee, take breath, and mak
much from shyness a
uld fain have you sup with her on
y I will come if they will permit me, for I love Madam Ratcliffe's sweet pasties. We do not get sweet pasties yonder. We are bid
de of the lane, with its deep ruts and loose ston
de. The diamond-shaped panes of the lattice were filled in with thick glass, which had only, within the last few years, replaced the horn which had admitted but little light into the room, and had b
st for more than two centuries, and had, as in duty bound, su
imes, they had been the keepers of the woods which clothed the undulating ground about Penshurst, and the stately beeches and
still occupied the Manor Farm, the office of keeper of the woods had fallen to another family on a more distant pa
atcliffe prided herself on her family, and considered
en about the Court of the Maiden Queen, and was he not, moreover, educated in book learning as befitted his position. George, if more homely in his per
d supplied the neighbouring gentry with horses, when, perhaps f
deed cause to be satisfied with the sons who had so well taken up the place
ad of the long table, where the men and maidens em
d he said, addressing his mother
thought. I crave pa
an inclination of the head, which was
forget, that she was the daughter of a Knight of the Shire, and that her own family was connected with some of th
lower end, the large party rose. George rose also, and said a short grace. Then the hall was de
hand to his mother, he led her through a door a
g, and the figures of both mothe
little light for his mother to discover the bl
d I bid her to sup with us on the morrow. I gai
ly. 'I did not forbid it, but I could hardly be said to con
?' George exclaime
t; but her relations are
e land than Mistress Gifford. If you doubt
for this heat, Georg
n as coarse. Coarse!' he repeated-'it is too much! They can't help themselves that their
l to sup, and, as your cousin Dolly will be here, it will not be amiss for once. But I never desire to have intercourse with the folk at Ford Place. Although I am a widow, I must not forget your father's
reply at first,
at breathes, save only against mean cowards, liars and traitors. But I wish you a goodnight, mother. I have to see
istress Ratcliffe resign
r my home-loving son. I have other hopes for Humphrey. He will wed with some gentlewoman about the Court. If Mr Philip Sidney wills to bring it about, it is done. Then I shall be a proud, happy mother, and I shall get ou