“Edith, thou art an angel!” crieth he out: and squeezed mine hand till I wished him the other side the Border.
“Nay!” said I, a-laughing: “what then is Milly?”
“Oh, aught thou wilt,” saith he, also laughing, “that is sweet, and fair, and delightsome. Dost know, Edith, our Nym goeth about to be a soldier? He shall leave us this next month.”
“A soldier!” cried I: for in very deed Nym and a soldier were two matters that ran not together to my thoughts. Howbeit, I was not sorry to hear that Nym should leave this vicinage, and thereby cease tormenting of our Helen. The way he gazeth on her all the sermon-time in church should make me fit to poison him, were I she, and desired not (as I know she doth not) that he should be a-running after me. But, Nym a soldier! I could as soon have looked to see Moses play the virginals. Why, he is feared of his own shadow, very nigh: and is worser for ghosts than even Austin Park. I do trust, if we need any defence here in Derwentdale, either the Queen’s Majesty shall not send Nym to guard us, or else that his men shall have stouter hearts than he. An hare were as good as Nym Lewthwaite.
Sithence I writ what goeth afore, have we all been rare gladded by Walter’s coming, which was just when the dusk had fallen. He looketh right well of his face, and is grown higher, and right well-favoured: but, eh me, so fine! I felt well-nigh inclined to lout (courtesy) me low unto this magnifical gentleman, rather than take him by the hand and kiss him. Ned saith—
“The Queen’s Highness’ barge ahoy!—all lined and padded o’ velvet!—and in the midst the estate (the royal canopy) of cloth of gold! Off with your caps, my hearties!”
Walter laughed, and took it very well. Saith Aunt Joyce, when he come to her—
“Wat, how much art thou worth by the yard?”
“Ten thousand pound, Aunt,” saith he, boldly, and laughing.
“Ha!” saith she, somewhat dry. “I trust ’tis safe withinside, for I see it not without.”