“So there be,” was the reply. “Is it not?”
“Truly, good friend, this is not in nature,” said Mrs Tremayne, gently. “It is only in grace.”
“Then in case it so be, is there no grace?” asked Barbara in a slightly annoyed tone.
“Who am I, that I should judge?” was the meek answer. “Yet methinks there must be less grace than nature.”
“Well!—and of Mistress Rachel, what say you?”
“Have you a care that you judge her not too harshly. She is, I know, somewhat forbidding on the outside, yet she hath a soft heart, Barbara.”
“I am thankful to hear the same, for I had not so judged,” was Barbara’s somewhat acrid answer.
“Ah, she showeth the worst on the outside.”
“And for the childre? I love not yon Lucrece.—Now, Mistress Rose, have a care your cakes be well mingled, and snub not me.”
“Ah! there spake the conscience,” said Mrs Rose, laughing.