“Are you a Gospeller?” she said, yet in a tone from which no one could have guessed whether she were one herself or not.
“I am so, Madam,” answered Mr Monke, his colour deepening, but his voice as firm as ever.
“Then get you gone out of mine house,” cried she in a rage, “and come hither no more a-tempting of my daughter!”
Mr Monke rose, and endeavoured to kiss her Ladyship’s hand; but she drew it from him as if he had been a snake. He came over to where Isoult sat, and held out his hand.
“Farewell, Mrs Avery,” he said, in a low voice, which trembled a little. “I have made an end of all mine hopes in this quarter. Yet how could I have done other?”
“Forgive me, Mr Monke, I pray you,” she said, glancing at Frances’ face, whence the light and the colour had not yet died away. “I think rather, you have but now made a beginning.”
Isoult Avery returned home in anything but a happy frame of mind. Lady Lisle had turned completely against Mr Monke, and now taunted Frances with “caring nought for him save for his Gospelling;” while Philippa took part, first with one side, and then with the other. In all this turmoil Isoult could see but one bright spot, which was the hope of an approaching visit from Sir Henry and Lady Ashley. Lady Ashley (née Katherine Basset) was Lady Lisle’s second daughter, and there was some reason to expect, from the gentleness of her disposition, that her influence would be exerted on the side of peace.
A letter was waiting for Isoult Avery at Bradmond, from an old friend and mistress whom she had not seen since her marriage. It ran thus:—
“My Good Isoult,—But shall I call you so, now you be Mistress Avery? Choose you if you will not have it so, for until you deny it I shall call you so.
“Annis fareth right well, and is a maid of most sweet conditions. Now I see your brow to wrinkle, and that you shall say, How cometh my Lady of Suffolk to wit any thing of Annis? If all riddles were as readily solute as this, it were scantly worth the trouble to make them. But have here mine explication of the mystery. Three months gone, certain of my kin writ unto me from Spain, to desire me to search and find a discreet maiden of good degree, that should be apt at the tongues, and that she should be reader of English unto the Queen’s Grace of Spain, the Emperor Charles his mother. Truly I slept not on the matter, but endeavoured myself to serve them with all the haste in my power: but though maids be many, discreet maids be few, and discreet maids of good degree be fewer yet. Hereon writ I unto Mistress Anne Basset, the discreetest maid I know, to ask at her if she were ware of an other as discreet maid as herself, that would of her good will learn the Spanish tongue, and dwell in Spain. And what doth Mrs Anne but write me word in answer that there is in all this world no maid to compare for discretion with Annis Holland, which hath learned the French from her, and the Latin from Mr Hungerford, of the King’s house, and can chatter like a pie in both the one and the other. Wherefore I, being aweary of searching for discreet maids, did lay hands with all quickness and pleasure on this maid, and she is now in mine house a-learning of the Spanish from Father Alonso, and Don Jeronymo, and me. And so, being weary, I commend you and Mr Avery to God. From Grimsthorpe, this Wednesday, at six of the clock in the morning; and like a sluggard (Note 9), in my bed.