“Nay, Dulcie never learned you that!” saith Aunt Joyce. “I know her better. Your daughters may have done, belike.”
Sir Robert did but laugh, and so ended the matter.
Selwick Hall, March the xxx.
So here I am come to the last day of our Chronicle—to-morrow being Sunday, when methinks it unseemly to write therein, without it were some godly meditations that should come more meeter from an elder pen than mine. To-morrow even I shall give the book into the hands of Aunt Joyce, that she may read the same, and write her own thoughts thereon: and thereafter shall Father and Mother and Anstace read it. There be yet fifteen leaves left of the book, and metrusteth Aunt Joyce shall fill them every one: for it standeth with reason that her thoughts should be better worth than of young maids like us.
I wis not well if I have been wise on the last page or no, as Father did seem diverted to hear me to say I would fain be. I am something afeared that I come nearer Milisent her reckoning, and have been wise on none. But I dare say that Helen hath fulfilled her hope, and been wise on all. Leastwise, Aunt Joyce her wisdom, as I cast no doubt, shall make up for our shortcomings.
I cannot but feel a little sorry to lay down my pen, and as though I would fain keep adding another line, not to have done. Wherefore is it, I marvel, that all last things (without they be somewhat displeasant) be so sorrowful? Though it be a thing that you scarce care aught for, yet to think that you be doing it for the very last time of all, shall cause you feel right melancholical.
Well! last times must come, I count. So farewell, my good red book: and when the Queen’s Majesty come to read thee (as Milly would have it) may Her Majesty be greatly diverted therewith; and when Father and Mother, may they pardon (as I reckon they shall) all faults and failings thereof, and in particular, should they find such, any displeasance done to themselves, more especially of that their loving and duteous daughter, that writes her name Editha Louvaine.
Note 1. At this time separate articles from the dress, and fastened in when worn, according to taste.
Note 2. Silk stockings. New and costly things, being about two guineas the pair.