“Parsley!” said Lady Louvaine, smiling again. “Why, Temperance, that came first into England from Italy the year Anstace was born—the second of King Edward.” (Note 3.)
“Dear heart, did it so?” quoth she. “And must not we have so much as a cabbage or a sprig of sweet marjoram?”
“Sweet marjoram came in when thou wert a babe, Temperance; and I have heard my mother say that cabbages were brought hither from Flanders the year my sister Edith was born. She was five years elder than I, and died in the cradle.”
“Well!” concluded Temperance, “then I’ll hold my peace and munch my acorns. But I reckon I may have a little salt to them.”
“Ay, that mayest thou, and honey too.”
The next day, the Golden Fish swam in at the door; and it came in the form of Mistress Rookwood and her daughter Gertrude, who seemed pleasanter people than Mrs Abbott. A few days afterwards came the Rector, Mr Marshall, with his wife and daughter; and though—or perhaps because—Agnes Marshall was very quiet, they liked her best of any woman they had yet seen. Before they had stayed long, the Rector asked if Lady Louvaine had made acquaintance with any of her neighbours. She answered, only with two houses, the one on either side.
Mr Marshall smiled. “Well, Mistress Abbott means no ill, methinks, though her tongue goeth too fast to say she doth none. Yet is her talk the worst thing about her. Tell her no secrets, I pray you. But I would warn you somewhat to have a care of the Rookwoods.”
“Pray you, Sir, after what fashion?” asked Lady Louvaine. “If I know from what quarter the arrow is like to come, it shall be easier to hold up the shield against it.”
“Well,” said he, “they come to church, and communicate, and pay all their dues; they may be honest folks: but this can I tell you, Mr Rookwood is brother to a Papist, and is hand in glove with divers Popish perverts. Wherefore, my Lady Louvaine, I would not have you suffer your young folks to be too intimate with theire; for though these Rookwoods may be safe and true—I trust they are—yet have they near kinsmen which assuredly are not, who should very like be met at their house. So let me advise you to have a care.”
“That will I, most surely,” said she: “and I thank you, Sir, for putting me on my guard.”