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I am a martyr to thy imagination. Dost remember
the time, Janet, I drowsed in the chapel and thou didst make me drink
bitterwort for a fortnight?" and the girl's voice rung out in soft
laughter.
"Aye, I have not forgotten, nor why thou wert drowsy either, Mistress
Penwick."
"Nay, thou didst not know."
"I did so. Thou hadst a book of tales and read nights with the candle
shaded by thy mother's landskip fan, and I gave thee aloes for thy
folly."
"Thou dost always find me out, Janet; I shall be glad when I become a
woman as big as thou."
"Thou art a woman to-day, and thou wilt never be as big as I; so,
having age and not a hulking servant's body, be content. I have a
letter from my master, and in it is much that concerns thee--"
"Isn't there always much that concerns me?"
"But not such important concernings. He has gone on a long journey and
proposes one for thee, my lambkin." Katherine raised herself in bed.
"Nay, thou must not stir or I hush my tale! Thy father has provided
thee with a guardian and 'tis to him I take thee.


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