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"I find naught here of bread or butter, Mistress Penwick; we will have
to seek elsewhere!"
"And thou wilt not have far to seek, my lord; my whey sits freshly
made upon the cellaret in yonder closet adjoining; if thou wilt be so
kind as to bring it hither, Janet will provide me with bread," and
Katherine looked triumphant.
"I would first learn whom I follow. Who hath so cavalierly concocted
it for thee at this late hour? Where is the person, my lady?"
"One who is in the habit of following thy orders; but at mine he hath
made it; 'twas Tompkins." Her voice rung with so much of truth, his
Lordship was satisfied and looked at her with a lighter heart; then,
as she pointed toward the door--a mute command for him to bring the
whey--he frowned and drew back and spoke,--
"Hiary will bring it thee, for 'tis said a hand put forth by an angry
heart doth curdle that it toucheth and--I am of no mind to be either
kind or courteous." At these words, the colour that had come into
Katherine's face a moment before, left it.


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