Agnes told her. The names of Messrs. Banaster and Rotherham were received without any comment; but no sooner had she said, "Master Combe," than Frideswide's eyes were lifted with light in them, and a slight flush crept over her brow.
"Master John Combe—not he? He that was the Queen's henchman?"
There was no Queen but Marguerite to the apprehension of Frideswide Marston.
"Aye, the very same," said Agnes. "Dost know him?"
Frideswide's hood wanted a good deal of settling just at that moment.
"Ay," said she, rather shortly. "Thou wilt not journey ill if Master Combe look to thy comfort. And maybe it shall be none the worser for thee if thou tell him thy name is Marston."
Agnes quietly drew her own conclusions, but she asked no questions. She found, moreover, during the journey, that Master John Combe was undoubtedly an agreeable travelling companion, doing his utmost to make others comfortable: and that when she had once informed him that she was the sister of Frideswide Marston, he appeared to know as much as she did herself about her home, her relatives, and all that concerned her. About Frideswide herself he said very little: but Agnes soon perceived that to talk of her was the surest means of engrossing Master Combe's attention.
Sheffield was reached at last, and Agnes found to her regret that no one from Lovell Tower awaited her. She went on to York with the two young gentlemen, with much less reluctance than she had anticipated: for though she was indifferent to Master Rotherham, she had come to have a very sisterly feeling towards John Combe. It was odd that John Combe's way from York should lie exactly past Lovell Tower: but of course, very convenient for Agnes. Master Rotherham also offered to attend her thither; but Agnes civilly declined his offer as giving him unnecessary trouble. It was late on a Saturday evening in January that Agnes and John Combe reached Lovell Tower at last.
The family were seated in the hall, where a large fire of thick oaken logs was blazing, and the men-servants were bringing in the boards and trestles for rear-supper, the last meal of the day. Fixed tables in the centre of a room were unknown to our medieval ancestors, though they were common enough with the Romans, and even with the Anglo-Saxons. They had leaf-tables, attached to the wall; and wealthy persons indulged in small round or square tables on three feet: but to a much later period than this, the setting of tables for meals included the erection of the table, a mere wide board set upon trestles. We use phrases derived from this practice when we speak of setting a table, or of an hospitable board. Over this was laid a fine damask tablecloth, and the silver nef, or ship, was placed in the middle. This was a large salt-cellar, used as the barometer of rank. The family and their guests sat above the salt; the servants below it. Silver plates and cups were set for the former, wooden trenchers and earthen mugs for the latter. To each person was given a knife and spoon: forks were not invented except for spices, and were never used to eat with. A clean damask napkin, and a basin of water, were carried round before and after every meal: but as neither was changed in the process, the condition in which both reached the lower end of the board is better left undescribed. Fastidiousness was out of place in such circumstances, particularly when husband and wife still ate from the same plate, and for a host to share his plate with his guest was the highest honour he could do him. Yet our ancestors' rules of etiquette show that they were fastidious in their way. Ladies and gentlemen are therein recommended not to wipe their fingers on the tablecloth, to refrain from all attentions to nose and hair during meals, to lick their spoons clean before putting them into the dish—special spoons for helping were never thought of—and above all things, not to feed their dogs from the table.
Saturday evening being a vigil, the supper consisted of salt ling and haddock, baked eels, galantine, eggs prepared in different ways, and various tarts and creams. Wassel bread was set above the salt, maslin below.