"You cannot go just yet, Jane. Your father is opposed to it, until General Cromwell returns there. Then, if it so please God, we shall all go—at least for a season."
"But when will Cromwell return there?"
"God has set a time for all events, Jane. We must wait for it. What think you of Matilda?"
"That she is in trouble greater than we know. She shuts in her words, but I think that something is about to happen."
"Anything may happen with Cromwell in Scotland, and the Parliament carrying things with such a high hand. But see, Jane, we must be after our own concerns. Servants, men and women, are getting beyond all belief; they do such barefaced things as never was. The week's butter is gone already, and when I spoke to Debby, she wiped her saucy mouth and, like the fox in the fable, 'thanked God she wasn't a thief.'"
Then the mother and daughter separated, and Jane went to her friend's room. She was languidly brushing out her long black hair, and Jane tried to kiss a smile into her melancholy face. And as she lifted her head, she had a momentary glance at a beautiful miniature lying upon the dressing-table. The face was that of a youth with flowing locks and a falling collar of lace; but Jane was too honourable to let her eyes rest consciously upon what was evidently hid from her. For in that same moment, Matilda moved her ribbons and kerchief in a hurried way, contriving in so doing, to cover the picture. Then she assumed her usual manner and asked,
"Is Lord Neville still angry at me? I suppose if I had remained with him, he would have eaten me by this time."
"He was very sorry for his show of temper, and would fain have made some apologies to you."
"Then he has gone? Well, it is not worth my while saying I am sorry for it."
"He set off early this morning."