“There spake Nell!” quoth Milly. “‘Who shall read it?’ Why, all the world, for sure, from the Queen’s Majesty down to Cat and Kitling.”
These be our two serving-maids, Kate and Caitlin, which Milly doth affect dearly to call Cat and Kitling. And truly the names come pat, the rather that Kate is tall and big, and fair of complexion, she being Westmoreland born; while Caitlin, which is Cumberland born, is little and wiry, and of dark complexion. “The Queen’s Majesty shall have other fish to fry, I reckon,” saith Aunt Joyce. “And so shall Kate and Caitlin,—if they could read.”
“But who is to make a beginning of this mighty chronicle?” saith Edith. “Some other than I, as I do trust, for I would never know what to set down first.”
“Let Nell begin, then, as she is eldest of the three,” quoth Aunt Joyce.
So here am I, making this same beginning of the family chronicle. For when Father and Mother heard thereof, both laughed at the first, and afterward grew sad. Then saith Mother—
“Methinks, dear hearts, it shall be well for you,—at the least, an’ ye keep it truly. Let each set down what verily she doth think.”
“And not what she reckons she ought to think,” saith Aunt Joyce.
“Then, Father, will it please you give us some pens and paper?” said I. “For I see not how, elsewise, we shall write a chronicle.”
“That speech is right, Nell!” puts in Milly.
“Why, if we dwelt on the banks of the Nile, in Egypt,” saith Father, “reeds and bulrushes should serve your turn: or, were ye old Romans, a waxen tablet and iron stylus. But for English maidens dwelling by Lake Derwentwater, I count paper and pens shall be wanted—and ink too, belike. Thou shalt have thy need supplied, Nell!”