“Ay, he was there, though I saw scarce anything of him but just at first.”
Edith was privately glad to hear it. She had been a little afraid of designs upon Lettice from that quarter.
“Aunt, was it not rude to give nicknames?”
“Very rude, and very uncomely, Lettice.”
“I thought it was horrid!” said Lettice.
“Louvaine,” Tom Rookwood was saying, next door, “I met Mr Tom Winter this afternoon, and he asked me if you had gone to the Low Countries to take service under the Archduke. He hath seen nought of you, saith he, these three weeks.”
“I know it,” said Aubrey, sulkily.
“Well, he told me to bid you to supper with him o’ Thursday even next. I shall be there, and Sir Josceline Percy, Sir Edward Bushell, and Mr Kit Wright.”
“I can’t. Wish I could.”
“Why, what’s to hinder?”