"And a good ending too," said Lady Frances; "I wish our wedding was
likely to terminate so favourably."
"Amen to that prayer!" said Barbara, earnestly, and added, shuddering as
she spoke, "It is very odd, madam, but one of your ladies, who was
arraying the communion-table, scared away a great toad, whose bloated
sides were leaning on the step, and, she says, on the very spot where
Sir Willmott Burrell must kneel to-night.--Hush! that was his door
which shut at the end of the corridor--the very sound of his foot-fall
makes me shudder--the Lord preserve us! It is astonishing, my lady, the
wisdom of some dumb animals: Crisp can't bear the sight of him; but
Crisp is very knowledgeable!"
"There will be another miserable match," thought Lady Frances; "that
pretty modest creature will sacrifice herself to that deformed piece of
nature's workmanship; even his nasty cur, long-backed and bandy, shares
her favour: I will beg her of Constantia, take her to court, and get her
a proper husband.--Crisp is an ill-favoured puppy, Barbara," she said
aloud, "and the sooner you get rid of him the better. You must come to
court with me, and be one of my bower-girls for a season; it will polish
you, and cure your Shepey prejudices. I shall ask Mistress Cecil to let
you come."
Barbara thought first of Robin, then of her father; and was about to
speak of the latter, when she remembered her promise of secrecy.
"Thank your ladyship; a poor girl, like me had better remain
where--where--she is likely to bide. A field-mouse cannot climb a tree
like a gay squirrel, my lady, though the poor thing is as happy on the
earth as the fine squirrel among the branches, and, mayhap, a deal
safer: and as to Crisp! beauty is deceitful--but honesty is a thing to
lean upon--the creature's heart is one great lump of faithfulness."
"You must get a courtly husband, Barbara."
"Your ladyship jests; and so would a courtly husband, at one like me.
Mayhap I may never live to marry; but if I did, I should not like my
husband to be ashamed of me.--The jewels are all on, my lady!"
"Should you not like to be as my maidens are?"
"Thank you, madam, no: for they have too little to do, and that begets
sorrow. Were my lady happy, and--and---- But that is my lady's call.
Shall I send your women, madam?"
"I have often thought and often said," murmured Lady Frances, as Barbara
meekly closed the door, "that nothing is so perplexing to the worldly as
straight forward honesty and truth. It is not to be intimidated, nor
bribed nor flattered, nor destroyed--not destroyed even by death. I
would give half my dowry--alas! do I talk of dowry?--great as my
father is, he may be low as others, who have been as great. And now I
must accompany my sweet friend to the altar on which she is to be
sacrificed. Alas! better would be for her if death were to meet and
claim her upon the threshold of the chapel she is about to enter!"