But at last she varied the reply thus: “If you could make something to help my sweet sister Kate about.”
The slave of love consented joyfully, and soon made Kate a little cart, and cushioned it, and yoked himself into it, and at eventide drew her out of the town, and along the pleasant boulevard, with Margaret and Catherine walking beside. It looked a happier party than it was.
Kate, for one, enjoyed it keenly, for little Gerard was put in her lap, and she doted on him; and it was like a cherub carried by a little angel, or a rosebud lying in the cup of a lily.
So the vulgar jeered; and asked Luke how a thistle tasted, and if his mistress could not afford one with four legs, etc.
Luke did not mind these jeers; but Kate minded them for him.
“Thou hast made the cart for me, good Luke,” said she, “'Twas much. I did ill to let thee draw me too; we can afford to pay some poor soul for that. I love my rides, and to carry little Gerard; but I'd liever ride no more than thou be mocked fort.”
“Much I care for their tongues,” said Luke; “if I did care I'd knock their heads together. I shall draw you till my mistress says give over.
“Luke, if you obey Kate, you will oblige me.”
“Then I will obey Kate.”
An honourable exception to popular humour was Jorian Ketel's wife. “That is strength well laid out, to draw the weak. And her prayers will be your guerdon; she is not long for this world; she smileth in pain.” These were the words of Joan.