Isoult Avery looked up and rose when John made this announcement, to the evident amusement of the person introduced.
The Hot Gospeller’s age was thirty-seven; of his personal appearance we have no trustworthy account. It may safely be asserted that his feelings were strong, his affections warm, his partisanship fervent, and his organ of humour decidedly developed. I picture him lithe and quick, with ready tongue and brilliant eyes; but perhaps I am as much mistaken as Isoult was concerning Alice Wikes. If the mania “de faire son portrait” which was so much the fashion in France in the reign of Louis the Fourteenth had pervaded England in the sixteenth century, we might have obtained much curious information which is now lost to us.
When all the members of our little group were gathered round the dinner-table,—which was not until eleven a.m., for the Averys dined unusually late that day—Dr Thorpe laid the subject which had been discussed before Mr Underhill, and requested his opinion on the matter. Could he find a man for the time?
Isoult shook her head dubiously.
“With whom take you part?” said Dr Thorpe.
“With both of you,” answered Mr Underhill. “I lean to Mistress Avery’s thought that there is no man for the time; but I do partly share your opinion, in that methinks there may be a woman.”
“A woman, Mr Underhill?” cried Isoult, in amazement.
“What woman?” said Dr Thorpe. “My Lady Duchess of Suffolk, I ween. Nay, Master; she is good enough as may be, but her money-bags are a sight scantier than when my Lord Duke was in life.”
“My Lady of Suffolk! not she, forsooth,” replied he. “Nay, good Doctor; mine hopes are anchored (under God) on none other than the King’s ‘sweet sister Temperance’—my young Lady Elizabeth’s Grace.”
“The Lady Elizabeth!” repeated Dr Thorpe, in a voice which intimated his meaning. “A child at her book and needle, Master Underhill!”