The Heart

We were well-nigh through supper when the goods arrived, and Madam

Cavendish ordered some of the slaves to open the cases, which they

did forthwith, and all my Lady Culpeper's finery was displayed.

Never saw I such a rich assortment, and calling to mind my Lady

Culpeper's thin and sour visage, I wondered within myself whether

such fine feathers might in her case suffice to make a fine bird,

though some of them were for her daughter Cate, who was fair enough.

Nothing would do but Mistress Mary, with her lovely face still

strange to see with her consternation of puzzlement, should

severally display every piece to her grandmother, and hold against

her complexion the rich stuffs to see if the colours suited her.

Madam Cavendish was pleased to express her satisfaction with them

all, though with some demur at the extravagance. "'Tis rich enough a

wardrobe for my Lady Culpeper," said she, at which innocent

shrewdness I was driven to hard straits to keep my face grave, but

Mistress Catherine was looking on with a countenance as calm as the

moon which was just then rising.

Madam Cavendish was pleased especially with one gown of a sky

colour, shot with silver threads, and ordered that Mistress Mary

should wear it to the ball which was to be given at the governor's

house the next night.

When I heard that I started, and Catherine shot a pale glance of

consternation at me, but Mistress Mary flushed rosy-red with

rebellion.

"I have no desire to attend my Lord Culpeper's ball, madam," said

she.

"Lord Culpeper is the representative of his Majesty here in

Virginia," said Madam Cavendish, with a high head, "and no

granddaughter of mine absents herself with my approval. To the ball

you go, madam, and in that sky-coloured gown, and no more words.

Things have come to a pretty pass." So saying, she rose and, leaning

heavily on her stick, with her black maid propping her, she went

out. Then turned Mistress Mary imperiously to us and demanded to

know the meaning of it all. "Whence came these goods?" said she to

Catherine.

"On the Golden Horn, sweetheart; 'tis the list you gave this

morning," replied Catherine, without a change in the fair resolve of

her face.

"Pish!" cried Mary Cavendish. "The list I gave this morning was my

Lady Culpeper's, and you know it. Whence came these?" and she

spurned at a heap of the rich gleaming things with the toe of her

tiny foot.

"I tell you, sweetheart, on the Golden Horn," replied Catherine.

Then she turned to me in a rage. "The truth I will have," she cried

out. "Whence came these goods?"